The Voices Of The Death Chamber.

The night lamp is faintly gleaming         Within my chamber still,     And the heavy shades of midnight         Each gloomy angle fill,     And my worn and weary watchers         Scarce dare to move or weep,     For they think that I am buried         In deep and quiet sleep.     But, hush! what are those voices         Heard on the midnight air,     Of strange celestial sweetness,         Breathing of love and prayer?     Nearer they grow and clearer,         I hear now what they say -     To the Kingdom of God's glory,         They're calling me away!     See my gentle mother softly         To me approaches now,     What is the change she readeth         Upon my pale damp brow?     She clasps her hands in anguish         Whose depth no words might say?     Has she, too, heard the voices         That are calling me away?     The father fond of my children,         First sole love of my youth,     The loving, the gentle hearted,         And full of manly truth,     Is kneeling now beside me,         Beseeching me to stay -     Oh! 'tis agony to tell him         They're calling me away.     If earthly love could conquer         The mighty power of Death,     His love would stay the current         Of failing strength and breath!     That voice whose tender fondness         So long has been my stay     Should tempt me from the voices         That are calling me away.     Ah! they bring my children to me,         That loved and lovely band,     And with wistful awe-struck faces,         Around my couch they stand,     And I strain each gentle darling         To me with wailing cry,     As I for the first time murmur:         "My God! 'tis hard to die!"     But, O hark! Those strains of Heaven,         Sound louder in mine ear,     Whisp'ring: "Thy God, Thy Father,         Will guard those children dear."     Louder they grow, now drowning         All sounds of mortal birth,     And in wild triumphant sweetness         Bear me aloft from earth!