Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VI. ConsolationThere is no death
J. L. McCreeryT
To rise upon some other shore,
And bright in heaven’s jewelled crown
They shine forever more.
Convert to life the viewless air;
The rocks disorganize to feed
The hungry moss they bear.
Shall change, beneath the summer showers,
To golden grain, or mellow fruit,
Or rainbow-tinted flowers.
The flowers may fade and pass away—
They only wait, through wintry hours,
The warm sweet breath of May.
That heaven hath kindly lent to earth
Are ever first to seek again
The country of their birth.
Are worthy of our love or care,
Whose loss has left us desolate,
Are safely garnered there.
We know its fairest, sweetest flowers,
Transplanted into paradise,
Adorn immortal bowers.
That we have missed and mourned so long
Now mingles with the angel choir
In everlasting song.
When beautiful, familiar forms
That we have learned to love are torn
From our embracing arms;
With sable garb and silent tread,
We bear their senseless dust to rest,
And say that they are “dead.”
Beyond the mists that blind us here
Into the new and larger life
Of that serener sphere.
To put their shining raiment on;
They have not wandered far away—
They are not “lost” or “gone.”
They still are here and love us yet;
The dear ones they have left behind
They never can forget.
Amid temptations fierce and deep,
Or when the wildly raging waves
Of grief or passion sweep,
Their gentle touch, their breath of balm;
Their arms enfold us, and our hearts
Grow comforted and calm.
The dear, immortal spirits tread;
For all the boundless universe
Is life—there are no dead.