O, could the sunshine of the heart
Dispel the blinding tears that start,
And all your doubts and fears depart—
Those forms, concealed
Like blossoms ’neath the shades of night,
Before your spirit’s quickening sight
Would stand revealed.
They still are yours, and yet are mine;
I teach them of the Life Divine,
And lead them to the truth’s pure shrine,
That evermore,
Through heavenly wisdom understood,
The True, the Beautiful, the Good,
They may adore.
They know no griefs, they shed no tears,
For perfect love dispels their fears,
And through their life’s eternal years,
They haste to meet
The humblest duty of the way,
And every call of love obey
With willing feet.
O, ye who tears of anguish shed
Above some empty cradle-bed,
Where once reposed a precious head—
Be reconciled.
For yet your longing eyes shall see,
In heaven’s broad sunshine, glad and free,
Your spirit child.
They are all there—they are all there—
The young, the beautiful, the fair;
They know no want, they feel no care.
They are not dead;
But quickened in their spirit’s powers,
Life crowns with her immortal flowers
Each shining head.
Some are no longer weak and small,
But fair, and beautiful, and tall;
And yet I call them children all,
For they believe,
With child-like faith, the truths I teach,
And render back in simple speech
What they receive.
They are more precious in my sight
Than all the radiant gems of light
That on the royal brow of night
Arise and shine;
And through a pure maternal love,
Known even in the world above,
I call them mine.
O, ask them not for earth again,
The bitter cup of grief to drain,
To tread in sorrow and in pain
Life’s thorny track.
Love’s rainbow arch to heaven they crossed;
Gone, but not dead—unseen, not lost—
Call them not back.
O, gentle mothers, cease to weep;
The faithful shepherd of the sheep
The tender little lambs will keep.
’Mid shadows dim,
Lean calmly on the Father’s breast—
“He giveth his belovéd rest”—
Trust ye in him.