Classic Poem

I .

Between the Dead and the living the veil of the glamour lies,
But softly it melts asunder, just as the Spirit flies.

Wait by the bed of the Dying, wait till the last sharp breath,
Then sit in the silence watching the eyes that are closed in Death.

Thinkest thou all is o'er, now thy heart stands still for fear?
Nay, something stirs in the silence! — listen, and thou mayst hear!

Thou art closed around by the glamour, its darkness covers thy head, —
But something walks in the chamber, and looks in the face of the Dead!

Wait for a little season — be patient yet for a day —
Before the breath of thy going, the veil shall dissolve away;

Thou too shalt stir in the darkness, no man dreaming thee nigh,
And look on thy worn white raiment, before they put it by!

II .

Hast thou counted the stars? hast thou measured the mastodon's bed in the stone?
Rejoice, thou art wise who wast foolish! the days of thy dreaming are done!

Hast thou taken the Cross from thy Spirit, and lifted the veil from thine eyes!
Hast thou emptied the heavens of their godhead? — Rejoice, for, O Fool, thou art wise!

And now that thou knowest the heavens and the Earth, the Beginning and End,
I will tell thee the last great Secret... Lie down on thy bed and attend!

Thou lookest, but dost not listen — thou seest but dost not rejoice —
Thou pickest the coverlit moaning, and shuttest thine ears to my voice.

I bend to thine ear and whisper — thou turnest away with a tear...
'Tis but a childish Secret, yet all thou hast yet to hear!

Gather thy senses a moment and listen, low on thy bed...
Now, Hearken! — Alas, thou hast fallen asleep, ere the Secret is said!