St. Vincent Morris
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St. Vincent Morris in the poem to a friend, whose home the war has left desolate, bidding her be comforted:
Still do you grieve, in that your loved one lies
Beneath some lonely, unforgotten grave....
Like an immortal offering sacrificed?
Because he died that others might not die?
And yet, and yet,
Even though sorrow Love may not forget,
Such was the death of Christ.
Comfort, sad heart! Beyond that little grave
Rests an immortal soul in God's repose:
'Others He saved, Himself He could not save,'
This was the task he chose.
Your love is crucified on that small cross,
That lonely Sentinel where he has trod,
Leaving thereon all trace of grief and loss.
And then your love
Will rise to find him where he waits above
Before the throne of God.
