On the loss of a beloved one

As thrills of long-hushed tone
Live in the viol, so our souls grow fine
With keen vibrations from the touch divine
Of noble natures gone. (James Russell Lowell.^[1] From James Russell Lowell’s “Memoriae Positum” (1863), dedicated to Robert Gould Shaw (1837-1863). )

Another night of sadness hath passed,
and new hours of anguish await me.
The voice of my dear one is silent—
I am comfortless and alone.
I ask in my grief why I, too,
was not summoned into Thy presence
to share with my beloved one
the joys of eternal life.

My soul rebels,
I cannot feel resigned.
If Thou dost not come to me
and hold me by the hand
I am lost, forsaken.
O look down from Thy heights
and let me feel Thine Omnipresence
in this, my darkest hour;
whisper unto me words of solace
that I may not despair.

O that we might sleep forever, Father,
that the memory of our sorrow might vanish,
the heart-throbs pulsate but lightly,
to pass away into dreams of happiness
that is no more!
But Thou wilt not have it so;
our heart-strings must be tensely drawn
that our natures may become refined, exalted,
more fitting to appear at Thy foot-stool
when our Heavenly call is sounded.

Therefore, Thy will be done!
and let each day teach us
this seemingly severe
but serviceable lesson.

Light-and shadow,
joy and sorrow,
life and death —
these are Thy watch-words,
and ours be the mission
to hearken unto them
in a spirit of humility,
as we pass along on our way
to the Kingdom of Heaven.
Amen.