Page:Poems Barrett.djvu/266

The eyes grow dim with prophecy,
 The voices, low and breathless—
"Till death us part!"—O words, to be
 Our best for love the deathless!
            Be pitiful, dear God

We tremble by the harmless bed
 Of one loved and departed—
Our tears drop on the lips that said
 Last night, "Be stronger-hearted!"
O God,—to clasp those fingers close,
 And yet to feel so lonely!—
To see a light on dearest brows,
 Which is the daylight only!
            Be pitiful, O God!

The happy children come to us,
 And look up in our faces:
They ask us—Was it thus, and thus,
 When we were in their places!—
We cannot speak:—we see anew
 The hills we used to live in;
And feel our mother's smile press through
 The kisses she is giving.
            Be pitiful, O God!

We pray together at the kirk,
 For mercy, mercy, solely—
Hands weary with the evil work,
 We lift them to the Holy!
The corpse is calm below our knee—
 Its spirit, bright before Thee—
Between them, worse than either, we—
 Without the rest or glory!
            Be pitiful, O God!

We leave the communing of men,
 The murmur of the passions;
And live alone, to live again
 With endless generations.