[JUNE, 1898]
IT did not seem unmeet that she whose heart
Had doors wide open always for each friend,
And held no lonely corners set apart,
Should go, companioned closely, to the end.
It was not strange she left without farewell;
That was a word she never loved to say.
Her gentle lips, whatever fate befell,
Parted more readily for glad “Good-day.”
Heart of the home wherein her presence made
Perpetual sunshine for each shady place,
Centre of kindly thought, of kindly aid,
And hospitality’s long practised grace.
Dear friend, who did not tarry for good-byes
But swiftly trod the heavenward path of air,
God keep thee in His safe, sure Paradise,
And let us, following, find thy welcome there.
“THE LAND THAT IS VERY FAR OFF”
SO far! Is it so far then, that dear country
Which homesick hearts expectant claim as theirs,
Chiding the years as slow which patient come and go,
And make no answer to reproach or prayers?
Is it so far then? For at times it seemeth
More dear, familiar, close than aught beside,
Bounding our mortal day, lying beside our way,
Only the little veil of flesh to hide.
Is it so far? When those who have gone thither
Seem so near always, always near and sure,
Loving and aiding still, sharing our joy and ill,
Lifting our burdens, helping to endure.
Is it so far then? I cannot believe it.
When the veil parts and rends and lets us through,
The first surprise of bliss, I think, will be in this,
That the far off was nearer than we knew;
That what we mourned as lost was close beside us,
Touching us every day in every spot,
While, blinded with dull tears, groping through faithless years,
We were upheld and led and knew it not.
Let us not call it far—the heavenly country;
It bounds our little space like viewless air,
And while we sorrowing say that it is far away
We touch it, all unknowing, everywhere.