COELO ET IN TERRA

Earth is a jealous mother; from her breast She will endure no separation long From aught she bore; So one by one She claimeth evermore The parent and the friend— The loveliest and the best, The meek, the faithful, and the strong,— Till, link by golden link undone, The very tomb that seems To youth the dismal gulf of all that’s fair, Becomes the chosen hearthstone of our dreams, The wonder-house of all most rare, Most deathless, and most dear; Where the bereaved heart, Life’s exile held apart, Would turn for love-warmth and abiding cheer. Yea,—earth can be so kind,— Then ye that rule the wind, Are ye of less appeal? Ye spirits of the stars And regions where the suns Themselves as atoms wheel Beneath your thundering cars? Cerulean ones!— Or goddesses, or saints, Or demiurge, or Trinities, Wherewith heaven highest faints! Are ye less kind than these Dim vaults of clay, Ye boasts and fathers of the ancient day? Thou god Avernian, Dis!—behold What timid form and old Adown thy purple gulf descends Unto the arch of Death—(Grim friend of friends! Be thou placated!) ’Tis a mother, see, Takes her first step—a child—into eternity! Leave her not fearful there Who was of love entire, So gentle and so fair!— Thy majesty and dread withhold For the high head and bold,— Imperial Death, mock not thyself with ire! Nay,—then it was not fear That stayed her foot the while; For now her lovely eyes, Unclouded, brown, Are lighted with their greeting smile— The Hand awaited through the gloom Is seen!—her whitened forehead lies Upon the Shepherd’s shoulder down— Yea,—her own Jesus comes,—to lead Unto the meadows where is Peace indeed!