Classic Poem

The seraphs would sing to her
And from the River
Dip her cool grails of radiant Life.
The angels would bring to her,
Sadly a-quiver,
Laurels she never had won in earth-strife.

And oft they would fly with her
Over star-spaces —
Silent by worlds where mortals are pent.
Yea, even would sigh with her,
Sigh with wan faces,
When she sat weeping of strange discontent.

But one said, " Why weepest thou
Here in God's heaven —
Is it not fairer than soul can see?"
" Fair, yes! — but keepest thou
Not me depriven
Of some one — somewhere — who needeth most me?

" For though the day never fades
Over these meadows,
Though He has robed and crowned me, yet —
Some love-fear for ever shades
All with sere shadows —
Had I no child there — whom I forget?"