VI Longing for Death
Below, within the earth’s dark breast,
From realms of light departing,
There sorrow’s pang and sigh oppressed
Is signal of our starting.
In narrow boat we ferry o’er
Speedily to heaven’s shore.
To us be hallowed endless Night,
Hallowed eternal slumber!
The day hath withered us with light,
And troubles beyond number.
No more ’mong strangers would we roam;
We seek our Father, and our home.
Upon this world, what do we here,
As faithful, fond, and true men?
The Old but meets with scorn and sneer:—
What care we for the New, then?
Oh, lone is he, and sadly pines,
Who loves with zeal the olden times!
Those old times when the spirits light
To heaven as flame ascended;
The Father’s hand and features bright
When men yet comprehended;
When many a mortal, lofty-souled,
Yet bore the mark of heavenly mould.
Those olden times when budded still
The stems of ancient story,
And children, to do Heaven’s will,
In pain and death sought glory;
Those times when life and pleasure spoke,
Yet many a heart with fond love broke.
Those old times when in fires of youth
Was God himself revealéd,
And early death, in love and truth,
His sweet existence sealéd,
Who put not from him care and pain,
That dear to us he might remain.
With trembling longing these we see,
By darkness now belated,
In Time’s dominions ne’er will be
Our ardent thirsting sated.
First to our home ’tis need we go,
Seek we these holy times to know.
And our return what still can stay?
Long have the best-loved slumbered;
Their grave bounds for us life’s drear way,
Our souls with grief are cumbered.
All that we have to seek is gone,
The heart is full—the world is lone.
Unending, with mysterious flame,
O’er us sweet awe is creeping;
Methought from viewless distance came
An echo to our weeping;
The loved ones long for us on high,
And sent us back their pining sigh.
Below, to seek the tender bride,
To Jesus, whom we cherish!
Good cheer! lo, greys the even-tide,—
Love’s agonies shall perish.—
A dream—our fetters melt, at rest
We sink upon the Father’s breast.