After Death

At first when my face shall be changed, and I go
To dwell in a silence that cannot be broken,
A few whom I love will lament me, I know,
And eyes will be dim when my name shall be spoken.

If any have blamed me, their censure will cease,
For when the full light of eternity flashes,
There's nothing to do but to whisper of peace,
And no one can war with a handful of ashes.

But O to be gone from the home that was mine;
With no more a share in its joys or its sorrow;
My part in its plans to forever resign,
No thought of to-day and no care for to-morrow.

All this is beyond me. How strange it will be
To go on a journey that has no returning,
With year after year speeding on without me
To gladden or grieve when the sunsets are burning!

The children will lean their light weight on the stone,
To spell out my name and to question and wonder
What 'tis to lie there in the darkness alone,
Through moonlight, and starlight, and rolling of thunder.

But then, in a moment, some butterfly gay,
Will hover above them and chide their delaying;
With beautiful wings it will lure them away,
And they will forget what the stone has been saying.

But I shall lie patiently there in my place,
The slumber a part of my life and my story;
Till some time the morning will flash in my face,
And I shall awake to its gladness and glory.

At first when my face shall be changed, and I go
To dwell in a silence that cannot be broken,
A few whom I love will lament me, I know,
And eyes will be dim when my name shall be spoken.

If any have blamed me, their censure will cease,
For when the full light of eternity flashes,
There's nothing to do but to whisper of peace,
And no one can war with a handful of ashes.

But O to be gone from the home that was mine;
With no more a share in its joys or its sorrow;
My part in its plans to forever resign,
No thought of to-day and no care for to-morrow.

All this is beyond me. How strange it will be
To go on a journey that has no returning,
With year after year speeding on without me
To gladden or grieve when the sunsets are burning!

The children will lean their light weight on the stone,
To spell out my name and to question and wonder
What 'tis to lie there in the darkness alone,
Through moonlight, and starlight, and rolling of thunder.

But then, in a moment, some butterfly gay,
Will hover above them and chide their delaying;
With beautiful wings it will lure them away,
And they will forget what the stone has been saying.

But I shall lie patiently there in my place,
The slumber a part of my life and my story;
Till some time the morning will flash in my face,
And I shall awake to its gladness and glory.
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