In Memoriam.

They are gone away,     No prayers could avail us to longer keep     The ships called out on the unknown deep,     We saw them sail off, some lingeringly,     Some suddenly summoned put out to sea;     They stepped aboard, and the planks were drawn in,     But their sweet, pale faces were free from sin;     As they turned to whisper one last good bye,     We sent after each one a bitter cry;         We knew on that track,         They would never come back,         By night or day.         Ah, we've closed dear eyes,     But God be thanked that they, one and all,     Had the heaven light touch them before the pall;     They saw the fair land that we could not see,     And one said, "Jesus is standing by me,"     And one, "The water of life I hear,"     And one, "There's no suffering nor sorrow here,"     One, "I have seen the city of countless charms,"     One, "'Neath me are the Everlasting Arms,"              So we know it is best,              They should be at rest,              In God's paradise.              Mary's Blessed Son,     Thou wilt not chide if thou see'st that low     Our harps are hanging on willow bough;     We would not murmur, we know it is well,     They are gone from the battle, the shot and shell,     And in our anguish we're not alone;     The Father knows all the grief we have known;     Oh God, who once heard the Christ's bitter cry,     Thou knowest what we feel when we see them die.              Our light, has been hid              By the coffin lid,              And dark our noon.              God hears our moan,     He knows how a stricken heart had said,     "Oh, number her not with the silent dead,     For if she stays watching the golden sea,     God help, for what will become of me?     The last rose out of my childhood's bower,     From my English garden, the last sweet flower;     Take me instead, for none call me mother."     The messenger said, "I take no other."         So she went the road         The others have trod,         And I am alone.         We shall meet again;     I fancy sometimes how they talk together,     Of the way they travelled, the stormy weather     That beat so hard on their pilgrim road,     Now changed for the city of their God;     I wonder if in their special home,     They keep choice rooms till their darlings come.     Saviour, who loves them, protect and guide me     Where they are waiting 'neath life's fadeless tree,         Father and mother,         And elder brother,         And sisters twain.