‘THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE ARE NO DEAD’
(Suggested by the book of Mr. Ed. C. Randall.)
‘There is no death, there are no dead.’
From zone to zone, from sphere to sphere,
The souls of all who pass from here
By hosts of living thoughts are led;
And dark or bright, those souls must tread
The paths they fashioned year on year.
For hells are built of hate or fear,
And heavens of love our lives have shed.
Across unatlassed worlds of space,
And through God’s mighty universe,
With thoughts that bless or thoughts that curse,
Each journeys to his rightful place.
Oh, greater truth no man has said,
‘There is no death, there are no dead.’
It lifts the mourner from the sod,
And bids him cast away the reed
Of some uncomforting poor creed,
And walk with Knowledge for a rod.
It bids the doubter seek the broad
Vast fields, where living facts will feed
All those whose patience proves their need
Of these immortal truths of God.
It brings before the eyes of faith
Those realms of radiance, tier on tier,
Where our beloved ‘dead’ appear,
More beautiful because of ‘death.’
It speaks to grief: ‘Be comforted;
There is no death, there are no dead.’
REALISATION
Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;
Or so the unperceiving thought,
Who looked no deeper than her face,
Devoid of chiselled lines of grace—
No farther than her humble grate,
And wondered how she bore her fate.
Yet she was neither lone nor sad;
So much of love her spirit had,
She found an ever-flowing spring
Of happiness in everything.
So near to her was Nature’s heart
It seemed a very living part
Of her own self; and bud and blade,
And heat and cold, and sun and shade,
And dawn and sunset, Spring and Fall,
Held raptures for her, one and all.