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 />'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 />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 />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 />And is the awful veil withdrawn, <br />That shrouds from mortal eyes, <br />In deep impenetrable gloom, <br />The secrets of the skies? <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 />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 />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 />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 Laetitia Barbauld<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dirge-23/
