Poems (Louisa Blake)/Life and Death
For works with similar titles, see Life and Death.
LIFE AND DEATH.
There is a mournful thought comes o'er the soul,
When what we once consider'd as a dream,
In the light buoyancy of youthful hearts,
Which did not yet conceive there could exist
Aught in this lovely world of wretchedness,
Is now presented to the sober'd mind
In all its sad realities, too true;
We find, alas, our hopes of bliss a dream—
A sad, delusive dream. If we have placed,
Too fondly placed them upon aught below;
And all things tell to our dejected hearts
That man was made to mourn; we weep, that friends
Who once sprang round our feet like beauteous flowers,
Have proved as short lived, and as fragile too;
And yet, why should we?—they will live again,
And in the genial light of other skies
Will flourish still in beautiful perfection;
And when our dearest friends drop one by one
Into the grave,—till all have disappear'd,
And the sad sense of utter loneliness
Is creeping o'er the spirit, and we feel
That each cold bolt of death that laid them low,
Hath struck our bosoms too;—we should remember,
Though the grim tyrant holds in icy bonds
The body formed of perishable earth,
He has no power o'er the immortal part,
He cannot touch the soul, nor break one link
Of our affection's chain,—the golden chain,
Which binds it still to earth, though now in Heaven.
Oh, no! we cannot think the immortal soul,
When 'tis recalled to Him from whom it came,
By whom 'twas sent to dwell on earth, and form
Attachments pure, with kindred, sister souls,
And worship him, by blessing one another;
We cannot think that when 't is called to Heaven,
The friendships formed on earth must be dissolved,
And the fond ties of purest sympathies,
Which bound it to its earliest home below,
Must be at once snapp'd suddenly asunder;
Oh, let us rather think, that though our friend
In higher thoughts and things is now engaged
Than our imaginations can conceive,
Placed even by the throne itself of God;
Oh, let us think, that still he does retain
Friendship for us, though in this vale of tears,
Protects us with a guardian angel's care
Through all our life, and on the bed of death
Will hover near, and when the summons comes,
Which shall dissolve earth's bonds, and set us free,
Will bear us on his azure wings to Heaven.
When what we once consider'd as a dream,
In the light buoyancy of youthful hearts,
Which did not yet conceive there could exist
Aught in this lovely world of wretchedness,
Is now presented to the sober'd mind
In all its sad realities, too true;
We find, alas, our hopes of bliss a dream—
A sad, delusive dream. If we have placed,
Too fondly placed them upon aught below;
And all things tell to our dejected hearts
That man was made to mourn; we weep, that friends
Who once sprang round our feet like beauteous flowers,
Have proved as short lived, and as fragile too;
And yet, why should we?—they will live again,
And in the genial light of other skies
Will flourish still in beautiful perfection;
And when our dearest friends drop one by one
Into the grave,—till all have disappear'd,
And the sad sense of utter loneliness
Is creeping o'er the spirit, and we feel
That each cold bolt of death that laid them low,
Hath struck our bosoms too;—we should remember,
Though the grim tyrant holds in icy bonds
The body formed of perishable earth,
He has no power o'er the immortal part,
He cannot touch the soul, nor break one link
Of our affection's chain,—the golden chain,
Which binds it still to earth, though now in Heaven.
Oh, no! we cannot think the immortal soul,
When 'tis recalled to Him from whom it came,
By whom 'twas sent to dwell on earth, and form
Attachments pure, with kindred, sister souls,
And worship him, by blessing one another;
We cannot think that when 't is called to Heaven,
The friendships formed on earth must be dissolved,
And the fond ties of purest sympathies,
Which bound it to its earliest home below,
Must be at once snapp'd suddenly asunder;
Oh, let us rather think, that though our friend
In higher thoughts and things is now engaged
Than our imaginations can conceive,
Placed even by the throne itself of God;
Oh, let us think, that still he does retain
Friendship for us, though in this vale of tears,
Protects us with a guardian angel's care
Through all our life, and on the bed of death
Will hover near, and when the summons comes,
Which shall dissolve earth's bonds, and set us free,
Will bear us on his azure wings to Heaven.