The Teaching of Death

The Teaching of Death

I saw my darling in calm slumber lying,

His still, pale face so beautiful in death;

So like sweet sleep, that, hushed from tears and sighting,

I looked and listened to his gentle breath.

His little hands, so white and thin, were folded,

Clasping the purest flowers that love could bring;

Never was marble in such beauty moulded—

God and Death only make so fair a thing.

I felt, in awe, that God and Death were present;

I felt the presence of the world unseen;

This life so-poor, so vain, so evanescent,

And that so grand, so holy and serene.

I thought how God rejoiceth in His creatures,

How He must love the beauty He hath made!

Why should He suffer death to touch those features?

Why let such graces in the dust be laid?

Nay, but what affluence of power creating

Must be the Maker's on His kingly throne;

What consciousness of right, thus calmly waiting

For His own time to let His ways be known!

Yea, all the ills which in this life we suffer,

Yea, all the clouds which our sad hearts do raise

In those calm moments, only seemed to offer

Fresh reason for our confidence and praise.

Because He seemed so high, so wise, so holy,

And we so ignorant of our own needs,

Mistaking good for evil; I thanked him solely,

That so above us were His ways and deeds!

And in that room of death my soul drew nearer

To the great presence of the things unseen;

The deep, dark mystery of life grew clearer,

Until on life and death I looked serene.

And looked serence upon that lovely sleeper;

Kissed the pale face, which silently had taught

That death and sorrow bring us knowledge deeper,

And deeper joy than this dear life had brought.

So I gave up my babe's sweet, warm caresses,

And laid him from my breast beneath the sod;

My arms are empty, but my soul he blesses,

And when I long for him I trust in God.

Unattributed

1:26, p. 1

1.14.1860