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Title: The Heavenly Flower
Author: James Avis Bartley [
More Titles by Bartley]
Now the final stroke is over!
And the heart hath ceased its beat;
And that form so palely beauteous,
In a ghastly winding sheet.
She has pass'd the gloomy portal,
She has reached the realm of light;--
And there is a heavy silence,
While we sit and muse to-night.
She was a flower, fading quickly,
From before our wistful eyes,
Giving back her spirit fragrance,
Early to the eager skies.
But she parted all so lovely,
Growing brighter day by day,
That our souls could scarce regret her,
Passing, like a dream, away.
Now that frail and beauteous flower,
Which scarce opened here below,
Scattering round a heavenly sweetness,
On the hearts which bled with woe;
By a death which maketh living,
Changed into a lovelier flower,
Gives a fragrance far more lovely,
Round about a deathless bower.
Oh! weep not for this, fond parents!
Though your earthly eyes be dim--
Yet--she blooms in fadeless beauty,
Where the Seraphs chant their hymn;
Where a heaven, serenely glorious,
Bends above a paradise,
Clad in tints of gayer splendor,
Than our dream-land's gorgeous dyes.
Yes! she blooms in deathless beauty,
In that brighter world than ours;
Where the happy saints and angels,
Gleam her glorious sister flowers;
Where no frost, no killing tempest,
E'er shall fall, or fiercely blow,
But mild zephyrs, waked on roses,
Round her softly come and go.
There she yet is pure and lovely
As she was with us below--
And our hearts should cease to mourn her,
When her God hath bade us know--
That, within that peaceful heaven,
She is happier than before,
And that we should strive to meet her,
When, like hers, our toil is o'er.
[The end]
James Avis Bartley's poem: Heavenly Flower
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