Think not of all the loved ones you have lost, Pause not to dream and grieve that they are dead, Think that another life beyond this one Is something grander far than we can dream; That to the happy, it doth happier seem, And for those worn by grief all pain is done; Think that the soul whose path was e'er through vales Of soft green grass and flowers and crystal streams, Were never tried by grief; to such it seems Life is a series bright of fairy tales; He whose great wisdom shapes the lives of men, Knew that the glow of sunshine would be best For souls whose strength attuned to perfect rest And so he gave the sun of life to them. But to some souls God gave of life the night; Turned to the sunshine, these poor eyes would blind; Some souls, through grief and suffering refined, Grow slowly, in the painful process, white. And so they all, at last, are clean and pure, All, all are gathered to the Father's feet, For all that other life holds something sweet, All of a brighter, happier home are sure. Then wherefore grieve for those who pass away? Why clasp woe's hand and bathe the heart in tears? The future bright holds many happier years Than ever yet have glittered o'er thy way; Then greet the morning with a smiling face And weep no more above the faded flowers, But sing a symphony into the passing hours And thank God for His goodness and His grace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DISMAL MOMENT PASSING by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE COLORED BAND by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD by WALTER RALEIGH SONNET TO A FRIEND, ON HIS SECOND MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON A DIGIT OF THE MOON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 16 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |