'Tis not death, but only gliding
Upward through the pearly gate,
Just to see that all is ready ;
Just a. little while to wait.
Just to fan the Eden bowers
With her new-tried angel wings,
And to sweep her snowy fingers
O'er her harp of golden strings.
'Tis not death, but only mingling
With those bright, angelic throngs,
That the blessed ones may teach her
All their grand, triumphant songs.
She will learn them of the angels;
She will know them when we come,
And, before we reach the portal,
We shall hear her ' Welcome home !'
'Tis not death, but only hastening
To the loyed ones gone before,
Just to learn how love unmeasured
Shall be hers for evermore.
Just to feel her spirit folded
In a father's warm embrace,
And to gaze, with joy and rapture,
On an angel sister's face.
'Tis not death : the soul's releasing—
Bursting of its prison bars—
Bounding back to God who gave it
Mounting upward to the stars—
Is but life—'tis life eternal
Here to close the weary eyes
But to open them, with transport,
On the beams of Paradise.
'Tis not death : we have not lost her:
§he has only gone before,
Just to hold a welcome ready
When we reach the shining shore.
Earthly ties are loosening round us,
Earthly hopes are laid aside;
Here in flesh, but there in spirit,—
Heaven is home since Maymie died.
