Be not dismayed, be not dismayed when death Sets its white seal upon some worshipped face. Poor human nature for a little space Must suffer anguish, when that last drawn breath Leaves such long silence; but let not thy faith Fail for a moment in God’s boundless grace. But know, oh know, He has prepared a place Fairer for our dear dead than worlds beneath, Yet not beneath; for those entrancing spheres Surround our earth as seas a barren isle. Ours is the region of eternal fears; Theirs is the region where God’s radiant smile Shines outward from the centre, and gives hope Even to those who in the shadows grope. They are not far from us. At first though long And lone may seem the paths that intervene, If ever on the staff of prayer we lean The silence will grow eloquent with song And our weak faith with certitude wax strong. Intense, yet tranquil; fervent, yet serene, He must be who would contact World Unseen And comrade with their Amaranthine throng; Not through the tossing waves of surging grief Come spirit-ships to port. When storms subside, Then with their precious cargoes of relief Into the harbour of the heart they glide. For him who will believe and trust and wait Death’s austere silence grows articulate. ASCENSION I have been down in the darkest water— Deep, deep down where no light could pierce; Alone with the things that are bent on slaughter, The mindless things that are cruel and fierce. I have fought with fear in my wave-walled prison, And begged for the beautiful boon of death; But out of the billows my soul has risen To glorify God with my latest breath. There is no potion I have not tasted Of all the bitters in life’s large store; And never a drop of the gall was wasted That the lords of Karma saw fit to pour, Though I cried as my Elder Brother before me, ‘Father in heaven, let pass this cup!’ And the only response from the still skies o’er me Was the brew held close for my lips to sup. Yet I have grown strong on the gall Elysian, And a courage has come that all things dares; And I have been given an inner vision Of the wonderful world where my dear one fares; And I have had word from the great Hereafter— A marvellous message that throbs with truth, And mournful weeping has changed to laughter, And grief has changed into the joy of youth. Oh! there was a time when I supped sweet potions, And lightly uttered profound belief, Before I went down in the swirling oceans And fought with madness and doubt and grief. Now I am climbing the Hills of Knowledge, And I speak unfearing, and say ‘I know,’ Though it be not to church, or to book, or college, But to God Himself that my debt I owe.