I have been thinking, since this day is ended,How in our lives sorrow and joy are blended.Day of thanksgiving! still our hearts are sad.Day of rejoicing!How can we be glad?How can we be as thankful as we oughtFor all God's mercies, while the bitter thoughtIs present with us, one will never comeAgain to meet us in this earthly home?The happiest voice of all is hushed to-night.The face which always shone with tenderest lightWe cannot see. We miss the cheery notesOf sweet home music. How each echo floatsBack from the past, still brightening: every room,As silvery moonbeams soften midnight gloom!
One year ago we welcomed home our boy:His lustrous eyes were full of hope and joy.How could we think death, in this cruel way,Would rob us of our treasure ere to-day!Shall we not hear him speak or sing again?O must we call and listen still in vain?'As billows wild break o'er some rock-bound reef,Our human hearts are crushed by waves of grief.How all those scenes of weary care and painPass and repass through aching heart and brain!
With smiles we hid as best we could our tears,And drove away our cruel, torturing fears.Hope spread the glamour of her smiles around him,And with her silken cords to earth-life bound him.His trustful spirit did not faint or shrink,Though near and nearer came he to death's brink.We shuddered as the waves crept round his feet;While he, with hopeful heart and smile still sweet,Seemed not to see the chilling flood so near;We knew not if he felt a doubt or fear.At last, the truth so carefully concealed,In God's own time was to his thought revealed.Then he was ready, willing, glad to go,If the good Father deemed it better so.With many a tender, loving, last farewell,Our precious boy "asleep in Jesus" fell.Is he still near us though we cannot see?Is he not with us as he hoped to be?We know the Father called our dear one hence;Has He not given us this sweet recompense?We trust, we know, beyond our darkened ken,He walks and talks; he is alive again,Arrayed in glory, in seraphic light:I would not call him back to earth to-night.Is it not better far than living here?Though Earth is lovely, it is glorious there.
With listening angels, sometime I shall hearHis voice again, for he will meet me there;Sometime, I'll feel his arms about me clinging,And hear him joyous anthems sweetly singing;Or rapturous peans—soft, sweet vesper lays—Melodious symphonies and hymns of praise.My heart cries out, "O God, Thou knowest best!I humbly bow to thy supreme behest.I know that Thou art good and wise and just;And, though I cannot see,I still will trust."
