Page:Near nature's heart; a volume of verse (IA nearnaturesheart00jack).pdf/116

 Life's cessation? Life's full possession!

Both false and elusive, Thou art unknown, To shallow souls, And unknowable; Dreadful, powerful Till met and vanquished whole; When lo! Life, the Prince of Life, Holds me fast for aye, And Death is no more— For me, no more.

THE DYING YEAR

(Written the last of 1922, a dark day with continuous rain, and published in the Atlanta Constitution, January 1st, a day of sunshine and life.)

"My time is up," bemoaned the dying year, And Nature wept and freely spread her gloom; "My record past, and I must now make room For buoyant youth, another still more dear. Some comfort mine that weep my friends sincere, Thus easier I may pass into my tomb; But joyful more to speak a nobler boon For those who hope and trust and persevere."

And all shall heed the inevitable call, From fragrant rose to chieftain strong shall fall; The greater they the more widespread the grief Of living men, the people great and small, But list, ye weeping ones—O sweet relief— It's Heaven's plan, through death to Life for all!