Classic Poem

O rest of God that endeth every pain!
O smile serene of peace that shall remain!
O birth of being! when this faulty frame
Falls into nothingness and Death's a name:
Hope, no more heartache, with possession blest,
Come to full fruit, possessing and possessed;
Earth's passions perishing, now love alone
Springs to its natural growth beside God's throne.

Bright soul! beloved best of best and wise,
True-hearted woman of the dauntless eyes
That looked on death without dismay, and saw
The future dawning with abated awe,
A little while a sylvan, thou shalt dwell
In silent chambers of the woodland fell,
But no long time; already to thy sense
The calm is perfect that we saw commence
Ere the last breath had left thy lip, the while
Heaven's light seemed breaking on that parting smile!
And we believe that, sure as June will bring
Blossoms and bees and all the race that sing,
In God's good season, such a love as thine
Must vindicate its love in courts divine,
Strong in those words that all resembling thee
Shall one day hear,—“Ye did it unto me.”