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Lippincott's Magazine, September, 1885

INTO THY HANDS.

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Into thy hands, my Father, I commit All, all my spirit's care, The sorest burden this dim life can bear, The sweetest hope wherewith its paths are lit! Into thy hands, that hold so closely knit What our blind, aching heart Calls joy or grief,—we know them not apart! Into the hands whence leap The hurling tempest, and the gentle breath Kissing the babe to sleep, The flaming bolt that smites with instant death The giant oak, and the refreshing shower Whose balmy drops make glad the tender flower. What though, even as lent jewels passing bright, That crowned me happy king For one sweet revel of one night in spring, I must surrender in the morning light, That cold and gray breaks on my tearful sight, Youth, hope, and joy, and love, And—oh, all other gems, all price, above!— The deathless certainty Of the deep life beyond this pallid sun, That golden shore and sea Which to my youthful feet seemed wellnigh won, So fair, so close, so clear, methought I heard The trees' soft whisper and faint song of bird; What though this fair dream, too, fled long ago, And on my straining eyes There break no more visions of mellow skies 'Neath which dear friends, called dead, move on in low Sweet converse through wide, happy fields aglow With heavenly flower and star,— What though, like some poor pilgrim who from far Sees, through a slender rift In the dark rocks that hem his toilsome way, The clouds an instant lift From countries bathed in everlasting day, I stand and stretch my yearning arms in vain Toward the blest light, too swiftly lost again? Into thy hands, my Father, I commit This dearest, last hope too, Old as the world, and yet forever new,— The hope wherewith our dimmest paths are lit, With life itself indissolubly knit! That too is well, I know, In thy eternal keeping. Ah! and so Let my poor soul dismiss Each fear and doubt, hush every anxious cry, Forget all thought save this, Some time,—oh, dream of joy that cannot die!— In those beloved hands, a priceless store, All our lost jewels shall be found once more! Stuart Sterne.

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