Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/422

394 If farewell we must say, it is that thou

So far beyond, above, we,—alien so

From grace like thine,—may hardly follow close

Thy shining feet in fields of endless light

When to the goal of souls reborn we pass.

Yet couldst thou not rest happy in that world

Thou saw'st with eyes anointed, near that Christ

Who was to thee a human brother and friend,

If we, thy brothers, with thee came not nigh.

If ever saint with the Eternal strove,

Then wouldst thou, wilt thou, strive and supplicate

That not one soul be lost or suffer ill,

If so may be, but win to the Infinite Love

That was the faith, strength, life of all thy days.

Our hearts are heavy; O, yet give we thanks,

As thou didst give when died one dear to thee,

Thanks that thou livedst—that we knew and loved,

Even in the flesh, one who was one with God.

JOSEPHINE SHAW LOWELL

was but yesterday she walked these streets,

Making them holier. How many years,

With all her widowed love, immeasurably

She ministered unto the abused and stricken,

And all the oppressed and suffering of mankind;

Herself forgetting, but never those in need;

Her whole, sweet soul lost in her loving work;

Pondering the endless problem of the poor.

In ceaseless labor, swift, unhurriedly,

She sped upon her tireless ministries,

Climbing the stairs of poverty and wrong,