Classic Poem

A HEART , as noble as ever beat
In a woman's bosom, pure and sweet,
Is still to-night.
Lips, ever gentle and kind and true,
Hands ever ready to give and do,
Are cold and white.

Feet that had wandered east and west,
Weary and worn with a fruitless quest,
Will go no more.
A loving mother, a helpful wife,
Faithful and true to the end of life,
Is gone before.

I loved her well, in her life's fair May,
When sunshine drifted along her way,
And hope was rife.
I loved her still, in the darker years
That brought disaster, loss and tears
To her young life.

With patient effort and will resigned,
She took up the burden Heaven assigned,
And ever strove,
Through sheen and shadow, blast and blight,
To make the home and hearthstone bright
With tender love.

Where some have faltered and failed, she stood
Firm in the strength of her womanhood,
With noble aim,
Working and waiting along the way,
For a clearer sky, a brighter day,
That never came.

Whilst others went, from a lower plane,
To the tempting heights she had hoped to gain,
'Neath brighter skies,
She kept her way, with a quiet mien,
Nor sighed for the state that might have been
Her well-earned prize.

Modestly shunning the public gaze,
Caring but little for idle praise
Or idle blame,
She won the fairest and best renown,
The purest jewel in woman's crown,
A spotless name.

Her days are told and her work is done,
In the winter's storm, the summer's sun;
The bourn is past.
And of all the days of life, the best
Is the one that brings us endless rest,
The very last.

Free and afar, in the heavenly lands,
She has found a house, not made with hands,
To her assigned;
And none that love her should wish her back
To the weary waiting, pain and wrack
She left behind.