Classic Poem

BY JAMES H. PERKINS.


It is a beautiful belief,
That ever round our head
Are hovering, on noiseless wing,
The spirits of the dead.

It is a beautiful belief,
When ended our career,
That it will be our ministry
To watch o'er others here;

To lend a moral to the flower;
Breathe wisdom on the wind;
To hold commune, at night's pure noon,
With the imprison'd mind;

To bid the mourners cease to mourn,
The trembling be forgiven;
To bear away, from ills of clay,
The infant to its heaven.

Ah! when delight was found in life,
And joy in every breath,
I cannot tell how terrible
The mystery of death.

But now the past is bright to me,
And all the future clear;
For 't is my faith, that after death
Istill shall linger here.