“Still in Thy Love I Trust”
Still in thy love I trust,
Supreme o’er death, since deathless is thy essence;
For, putting off the dust,
Thou hast but blest me with a nearer presence.
And so, for this, for all,
I breathe no selfish plaint, no faithless chiding;
On me the snowflakes fall,
But thou hast gained a summer all-abiding.
Striking a plaintive string,
Like some poor harper at a palace portal,
I wait without and sing,
While those I love glide in and dwell immortal.
A.A. Fields.