Classic Poem

Let me draw near thee in this hour of sadness,
Friend of my early days!
Thou who didst send full many a ray of gladness
Across my youthful ways.

I offer thee a cup of consolation,
Whose taste mine heart hath known
In seasons of that spirit-desolation
Which have been oft mine own.

Thou mournest now the absence of a mother,
Loved, tender, wise, and true:
She hath but passed from this world to another
Scarcely beyond thy view.

Where the dear objects that our souls have cherished
Fade like the stars away:
Out of our sight are they, but oh! not perished,
But lost in heaven's day.

Our eyes are weak; the mists of earth have dimmed them;
Their chariots of fire
We see not; but with Him who hath redeemed them
Our loved ones have gone higher.

Eyes that have looked through life with love upon us
Have looked their last on earth:
They wait to see us when the grave that won us
To our immortal birth.

Lift thou thy thoughts, in this dark hour, to heaven,
And whisper, “God is love:”
He hath but taken what his love hath given
To greater joy above.

Look up to him, and oh! may he sustain thee,
Thou dear and stricken one!
And, by Life's discipline, through Jesus train thee,
Till thou art all his own,—

Till all thy furnace-provings shall be ended,
And, 'mid the pure and blest,
Thy precious mother, now from earth ascended,
Shall welcome thee to rest.