DEATH was full urgent with thee, Sister dear, <br /> And startling in his speed;— <br />Brief pain, then languor till thy end came near— <br /> Such was the path decreed, <br /> The hurried road <br />To lead thy soul from earth to thine own God's <br /> abode. <br /> <br />Death wrought with thee, sweet maid, impatiently:— <br /> Yet merciful the haste <br />That baffles sickness;—dearest, thou didst die, <br /> Thou wast not made to taste <br /> Death's bitterness, <br />Decline's slow-wasting charm, or fever's fierce <br /> distress. <br /> <br />Death came unheralded:—but it was well; <br /> For so thy Saviour bore <br />Kind witness, thou wast meet at once to dwell <br /> On His eternal shore; <br /> All warning spared, <br />For none He gives where hearts are for prompt change <br /> prepared. <br /> <br />Death wrought in mystery; both complaint and cure <br /> To human skill unknown:— <br />God put aside all means, to make us sure <br /> It was His deed alone; <br /> Lest we should lay <br />Reproach on our poor selves, that thou wast caught <br /> away. <br /> <br />Death urged as scant of time:—lest, Sister dear, <br /> We many a lingering day <br />Had sicken'd with alternate hope and fear, <br /> The ague of delay; <br /> Watching each spark <br />Of promise quench'd in turn, till all our sky was <br /> dark. <br /> <br />Death came and went:—that so thy image might <br /> Our yearning hearts possess, <br />Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright, <br /> With youth and loveliness; <br /> Sorrow can claim, <br />Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name. <br /> <br />Joy of sad hearts, and light of downcast eyes! <br /> Dearest thou art enshrined <br />In all thy fragrance in our memories; <br /> For we must ever find <br /> Bare thought of thee <br />Freshen this weary life, while weary life shall be.<br /><br />John Henry Newman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/consolations-in-bereavement/
