Pure spirit! O where art thou now! <br /> O whisper to my soul! <br /> O let some soothing thought of thee, <br /> The bitter grief control! <br /> <br /> 'Tis not for thee the tears I shed, <br /> Thy sufferings now are o'er; <br /> The sea is calm, the tempest past, <br /> On that eternal shore. <br /> <br /> No more the storms that wrecked thy peace <br /> Shall tear that gentle breast; <br /> Nor Summer's rage, nor Winter's cold, <br /> Thy poor, poor frame molest. <br /> <br /> Thy peace is sealed, thy rest is sure, <br /> My sorrows are to come; <br /> Awhile I weep and linger here, <br /> Then follow to the tomb. <br /> <br /> And is the awful veil withdrawn, <br /> That shrouds from mortal eyes, <br /> In deep impenetrable gloom, <br /> The secrets of the skies? <br /> <br /> O, in some dream of visioned bliss, <br /> Some trance of rapture, show <br /> Where, on the bosom of thy God, <br /> Thou rest'st from human woe! <br /> <br /> Thence may thy pure devotion's flame <br /> On me, on me descend; <br /> To me thy strong aspiring hopes, <br /> They faith, thy fervours lend. <br /> <br /> Let these my lonely path illume, <br /> And teach my weakened mind <br /> To welcome all that's left of good, <br /> To all that's lost resigned. <br /> <br /> Farewell! With honour, peace, and love, <br /> Be thy dear memory blest! <br /> Thou hast no tears for me to shed, <br /> When I too am at rest.<br /><br />Anna Lætitia Barbauld<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dirge-6/
