O, strange to say! we did not start,
We did not even wildly weep,
For each had schooled the wayward heart
The law of perfect peace to keep—
And deep as Love’s unfathomed sea
Had been our faith that this would be.
O, shall we tell those moments o’er—
And all her words of love repeat—
And say how, through Time’s open door
She glided in with noiseless feet?
Nay, rather let us purely hold
Such things too sacred to be told.
Enough to say we wait our time,
With heaven’s own sunshine in the heart,
Rejoicing in the faith sublime,
That those who love can never part,
And wheresoe’er the soul may dwell,
That God will order all things well.
THE ALL IN ALL.
How beautiful the roses bloom
Around the portals of the tomb!
How fair the meek white lilies grow
From elements of death below!
How tender and serenely bright
The stars light up the depths of night!
Thus beauty unto ruin clings,
And light from deepest darkness springs;
The Soul its noblest strength must gain
Through ministries of grief and pain;
Great victories only come through strife,
And death is but the gate of life.
The ocean waves that darkly flow,
Sweep over priceless pearls below;
The tempest cloud, when wild winds rest,
Builds up the rainbow on its breast,
And truths, unseen when all is bright,
Shine like the stars in sorrow’s night.
O Thou, in whom the vine bears fruit!
In whom the violets take their root,
For Thee the summer roses blow;
For Thee the fair white lilies grow;
And from Thine all-sustaining heart
The Soul’s immortal currents start.
O, when the circle, made complete,
Shall in thy boundless being meet,
We feel, we know, that we shall be
Made perfect in our love to Thee;
That good will triumph in that hour,
And weakness be exchanged for power.