Passion Flowers (Watson)/One of the Weary
One of the Weary.
Hush! do not grieve; keep still, let the passing
Of seraphs be felt, mayhap seen, in the place.
Hush! for the faint, fitful flutter of breathing
Grows less, and disturbs not the peace of her face;
Life at the best is so weary. Let her rest—rest.
Of seraphs be felt, mayhap seen, in the place.
Hush! for the faint, fitful flutter of breathing
Grows less, and disturbs not the peace of her face;
Life at the best is so weary. Let her rest—rest.
She is heart of thy heart? Be it so, but God's keeping
Is safer than thine. Thou would'st shield from His hand
Thy Dearest? Be quiet, she listens, is speaking—
"Dear Love"—with that thought she has passed to the land
Of those who were weary, but are blest and at rest.
Is safer than thine. Thou would'st shield from His hand
Thy Dearest? Be quiet, she listens, is speaking—
"Dear Love"—with that thought she has passed to the land
Of those who were weary, but are blest and at rest.