Classic Poem

Far in the glories of a fadeless day,
Amid excess of beauty, and the swell
Of rich and everlasting melody,
Our angel-kindred dwell.

No care can reach them in their radiant home;
No night can trail its terror o'er their skies;
No sin can cast around its baleful gloom;
No tears can dim their eyes.

Immortal pleasures crowd the golden hours:
Undreamed-of beauty basks on every hand;
And odorous breathings from the lips of flowers
Fill all the peaceful land.

And bright forms mingling in the holy mirth
Pure white-robed dwellers on the blissful shore,
Our kindred are,—the loved and lost of earth—
The happy ‘gone before!’

Among them cherub shapes of childhood glide;
Maidens are there with waving locks of gold;
And manhood in its glory and its pride,
And age no longer old!

And he, the last that left us, whose young life—
By laughing, promise-laden breezes driven—
Disdained to meet the rude world's noisy strife
And sought the calm of Heaven.

I dream I see him in his radiant rest,
Among his angel-kindred up on high,
And honoured as befits the latest guest
They welcome to the sky.

Brethren on ministering missions move,
Or guide him where'er Heaven's rich marvels rise,
And sisters look unutterable love
Into his answering eyes.

Ah, blessed spirits in their balmy ease!
No cross of earth can ever chafe them now!
For them no more the trembling hands and knees
Nor doubt-beclouded brow!

Ours is the darkness; theirs the boundless day;
They drink true life; we draw the laboured breath:
They have eternal sunshine on their way;
We have the gloom of death.

Yet, nearing the cold river, I rejoice
That when I pass its darkness and its roar,
All these will welcome me with heart and voice
Upon the further shore.