Poems (Helen Jenkins)/Firelight Fancies

FIRELIGHT FANCIES.

By the fire I sit and dream,
While the glowing embers seem
With bewild'ring light agleam.

In this wierd and witching light,
Intervening years take flight,—
Pleasant fancies come to-night.

Throngs of dear ones come and go,—
White robes tinged with golden glow,—
One I loved is with me now.

Dear old Grandma! even yet
Her image in my heart is set,
A picture I can ne'er forget.

She crossed the Mystic Tide, I know;
And yet, methinks I see her now
Rocking softly to and fro.

Now beside her chair I stand,
Holding close the wrinkled hand,
Fair and soft in Spirit-land.

A meek and patient. face I see
Looking wistfully at me,
Smiling ever tenderly.

Such a look of sweet appeal!
All the old-time joy I feel
O'er my spirit softly steal.

Yet the room grows strangely .dim;
For with tears my eyes will brim,
Whispering her favorite hymn.

Listen! I can hear her sing,—
Hear the joyous anthem ring.
Now like bird-notes on the wing.

I can hear a swelling strain,
A glad, rapturous refrain,
Such as I shall hear again

When the night is past and gone,
On some other starry morn,
In some other fairer dawn,

Bursting into glorious day;
When my spirit slips away
From its prison walls of clay;

Then, all pain and sorrow fleeing,
Filling, thrilling all my being,
Comes the perfect joy of seeing,

Face to face, my Father, God,
And my Saviour, Christ the Lord,
By the angel hosts adored!

Nevermore through blinding tears,
Mocked by phantom doubts and fears,
Mourning over miss-spent years,

Joy triumphant shall be mine;
For all spirits there shall shine
Fair and pure in light divine.