Not Changed, but Glorified
Not changed but glorified! Oh, beauteous language
For those who weep,
Mourning the loss of some dear face departed,
Fallen asleep.
Hushed into silence, never more to comfort
The hearts of men,
Gone, like the sunshine of another country,
Beyond our ken.
O dearest dead, we saw thy white soul shining
Behind the face,
Bring with the beauty and celestial glory
Of an immortal grace.
What wonder that we stumble, faint and weeping
And sick with fears,
Since thou hast left us—all alone with sorrow
And blind with tears?
For those who weep,
Mourning the loss of some dear face departed,
Fallen asleep.
Hushed into silence, never more to comfort
The hearts of men,
Gone, like the sunshine of another country,
Beyond our ken.
O dearest dead, we saw thy white soul shining
Behind the face,
Bring with the beauty and celestial glory
Of an immortal grace.
What wonder that we stumble, faint and weeping
And sick with fears,
Since thou hast left us—all alone with sorrow
And blind with tears?
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