Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 146

CROSSING THE BAR

Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as, moving, seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.

--Alfred Tennyson.

LAUS MORTIS

Nay, why should I fear Death, Who gives us life, and in exchange takes breath?

He is like cordial spring, That lifts above the soil each buried thing;

Like autumn, kind and brief, The frost that chills the branches frees the leaf;

Like winter's stormy hours, That spread their fleece of snow to save the flowers;

The lordliest of all things!-- Life lends us only feet, Death gives us wings.

Fearing no covert thrust, Let me walk onward, armed in valiant trust;

Dreading no unseen knife, Across Death's threshold step from life to life!

O all ye frightened folk, Whether ye wear a crown or bear a yoke,

Laid in one equal bed, When once your coverlet of gra.s.s is spread,

What daybreak need you fear?

The Love will rule you there that guides you here.

Where Life, the sower, stands, Scattering the ages from his swinging hands,

Thou waitest, reaper lone, Until the mult.i.tudinous grain hath grown.

Scythe-bearer, when thy blade Harvests my flesh, let me be unafraid.

G.o.d's husbandman thou art, In his unwithering sheaves, O, bind my heart!

--Frederic Lawrence Knowles.

IMMANUEL'S LAND

The sands of time are sinking, The dawn of heaven breaks, The summer morn I've sighed for-- The fair, sweet morn awakes.

Dark, dark hath been the midnight, But dayspring is at hand, And glory, glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land.

I've wrestled on toward heaven 'Gainst storm, and wind, and tide, Now, like a weary traveler That leaneth on his guide, Amid the shades of evening, While sinks life's lingering sand, I hail the glory dawning From Immanuel's land.

Deep waters crossed life's pathway; The hedge of thorns was sharp; Now these lie all behind me.

O for a well-tuned harp!

O to join the Hallelujah With yon triumphant band Who sing where glory dwelleth-- In Immanuel's land!

With mercy and with judgment My web of time he wove, And aye the dews of sorrow Were l.u.s.tered with his love; I'll bless the hand that guided, I'll bless the heart that planned, When throned where glory dwelleth-- In Immanuel's land.

--Annie R. Cousin.

The grave itself is but a covered bridge Leading from light to light through a brief darkness.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

I hold that, since by death alone G.o.d bids my soul go free, In death a richer blessing is Than all the world to me.

--Scheffler, tr. by Frederic Rowland Marvin.

DEATH

Fearest the shadow? Keep thy trust; Still the star-worlds roll.

Fearest death? sayest, "Dust to dust"?

No; say "Soul to Soul!"

--John Vance Cheney.

THE TENANT

This body is my house--it is not I; Herein I sojourn till, in some far sky, I lease a fairer dwelling, built to last Till all the carpentry of time is past.

When from my high place viewing this lone star, What shall I care where these poor timbers are?

What though the crumbling walls turn dust and loam-- I shall have left them for a larger home.

What though the rafters break, the stanchions rot, When earth has dwindled to a glimmering spot!

When thou, clay cottage, fallest, I'll immerse My long-cramp'd spirit in the universe.

Through uncomputed silences of s.p.a.ce I shall yearn upward to the leaning Face.

The ancient heavens will roll aside for me, As Moses monarch'd the dividing sea.

This body is my house--it is not I.

Triumphant in this faith I live, and die.

--Frederic Lawrence Knowles.