Death and Immortality. Memor et fioelis THE WORLD OF LIGHT. 5. HEY are all gone into the world of light, And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, I see them walking in an air of glory, My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, O holy hope, and high humility! These are your walks, and you have showed them me To kindle my cold love. Dear, beauteous death! the jewel of the just! Shining nowhere but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark! He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know, At first sight, if the bird be flown; But what fair dell or grove he sings in now, And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep. If a star were confined into a tomb, Her captive flames must needs burn there : But, when the hand that locked her up gives room, She'll shine through all the sphere. O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee! Resume Thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty! Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill Or else remove me hence unto that hill Where I shall need no glass. HENRY VAUGHAN. 1654. SWEET DEATH. THE Sweetest blossoms die. And so it was that, going day by day Unto the Church to praise and pray, And crossing the green churchyard thoughtfully, I saw how on the graves the flowers Shed their fresh leaves in showers, And how their perfume rose up to the sky Before it passed away. The youngest blossoms die. They die, and fall, and nourish the rich earth Sweet life, but sweeter death that passeth by All colours turn to green; The bright hues vanish and the odours fly, The grass hath lasting worth. |