Classic Poem

I RENT the veil that hangs between
The living and the dead,
And cried aloud, ‘Why have you left
Us here uncomforted?

‘Why do you never speak nor come
Again to ease our hearts?
It were a little thing for love
To do, when it departs!’

Then through the veil a voice blew back,
‘Come? we for ever come!
Scarce have we crossed the Silence ere
We hear again time's hum.

‘And turn again to enter it;
But you are blind, nor see
That children come from where we are:
Lo, I your child shall be.’

The veil fell back. And then the child
Came and I searched its face,
To find—the Mystery again:
Of Death no other trace.