Poems (Hale)/To the Memory of the Rev. Samuel Presbury

by Mary Whitwell Hale

TO THE MEMORY OF THE REV. SAMUEL PRESBURY.

A strain is bursting on the ear,
 Even at the portals of the tomb:
That strain the stricken heart can cheer,
 And whisper peace mid death and gloom.
Though dust return to kindred dust,
 And nature wage the last sad strife,
In him we place our quenchless trust,—
 "The Resurrection and the Life."

Glory to Thee, the King of kings!
 Eternal One! enthroned on high!
Thy word the blest assurance brings;
 Checked is the murmur and the sigh.
While nature o'er the loved one's rest
 The tear of fond regret must weep,
The spirits of the good and blest
 Their vigils o'er his slumbers keep.

Yet not for him whose shining way
 Is 'mid the radiant realms on high,
On whom has beamed the perfect day,
 O! not for him the tearful eye.
But they whose sun of hope has set
 Even at its zenith pure and bright,—
Who can those stricken hearts forget,
 To whom is lost that vanished light?

Thou to whose changeless throne above,
 Faith looks beyond the silent tomb!
O! be "Thy banner o'er them love,"
 To cheer mid darkness, death and gloom.
Be o'er their path a shining ray;
 The shadows brooding round dispel;
Till night be merged in endless day,
 And joy's rich choral strain shall swell.

There shall they meet, the parted here,—
 The husband, brother, father, son:
From error free, released from fear,
 His crown of heavenly light is won.
No more to share earth's pain and grief,
 To struggle with its care and strife,
In Him his spirit finds relief,
 "The Resurrection and the Life."