WHEN the great leader's task was done, He stood on Pisgah's height, And saw, far off, the westering sun Drop down into the night; Saw, too, the land in which, alas! He might not hope to dwell Spread fairly out; and then—for so Talmudic legends tell—. Jehovah touched him and he slept; And smooth the mountain sod Was levelled o'er him and 'twas writ "Died by the kiss of God." The kiss of God! We talk of death In many learned ways,— We know so much,—which of them all So simple in its praise As this which from the oldest days Has treasured been apart, To comfort in this heel of time The mourner's aching heart? We walk our bright or desert road And, when we reach the end, Bends o'er us with gentle face The Universal Friend. Upon our lips his own are laid: We do not strive or cry. The kiss of God! Upon that kiss It is not hard to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD TRAILS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A MINUET OF MOZART'S by SARA TEASDALE THE BOROUGH: LETTER 22. POOR OF THE BOROUGH. PETER GRIMES by GEORGE CRABBE THE WILDERNESS TRANSFORMED by PHILIP DODDRIDGE TWO WITCHES: 1. THE WITCH OF COOS by ROBERT FROST THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by SAMUEL ROGERS STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1718 by JONATHAN SWIFT |