Classic Poem

I thought that I had died and, fleet of soul,
Was speeding outward through the realms of Night,
On and yet on I winged my eager flight,
Straining to catch a first glimpse of the goal;
I felt the billows of the darkness roll,
Waving about me in their turgid might;
I prayed to God that but one ray of light
Would glimmer faintly from a friendly knoll;
The clumsy ages slowly crept along,
And still I drifted o'er the unknown way,
Until, afar, I heard seraphic song,
And came where weary pilgrims rest and pray;
Then, then our child that died at infancy
Came toddling out to kiss and welcome me.