<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420698" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Friend’s Burial</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My thoughts are all in yonder town,<br>Where, wept by many tears,<br>To-day my mother's friend lays down<br>The burden of her years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">True as in life, no poor disguise<br>Of death with her is seen,<br>And on her simple casket lies<br>No wreath of bloom and green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, not for her the florist's art,<br>The mocking weeds of woe;<br>Dear memories in each mourner's heart<br>Like heaven's white lilies blow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all about the softening air<br>Of new-born sweetness tells,<br>And the ungathered May-flowers wear<br>The tints of ocean shells.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The old, assuring miracle<br>Is fresh as heretofore;<br>And earth takes up its parable<br>Of life from death once more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here organ-swell and church-bell toll<br>Methinks but discord were;<br>The prayerful silence of the soul<br>Is best befitting her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No sound should break the quietude<br>Alike of earth and sky<br>O wandering wind in Seabrook wood,<br>Breathe but a half-heard sigh!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing softly, spring-bird, for her sake;<br>And thou not distant sea,<br>Lapse lightly as if Jesus spake,<br>And thou wert Galilee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For all her quiet life flowed on<br>As meadow streamlets flow,<br>Where fresher green reveals alone<br>The noiseless ways they go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From her loved place of prayer I see<br>The plain-robed mourners pass,<br>With slow feet treading reverently<br>The graveyard's springing grass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Make room, O mourning ones, for me,<br>Where, like the friends of Paul,<br>That you no more her face shall see<br>You sorrow most of all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her path shall brighten more and more<br>Unto the perfect day;<br>She cannot fail of peace who bore<br>Such peace with her away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O sweet, calm face that seemed to wear<br>The look of sins forgiven!<br>O voice of prayer that seemed to bear<br>Our own needs up to heaven!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How reverent in our midst she stood,<br>Or knelt in grateful praise!<br>What grace of Christian womanhood<br>Was in her household ways!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For still her holy living meant<br>No duty left undone;<br>The heavenly and the human blent<br>Their kindred loves in one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if her life small leisure found<br>For feasting ear and eye,<br>And Pleasure, on her daily round,<br>She passed unpausing by,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet with her went a secret sense<br>Of all things sweet and fair,<br>And Beauty's gracious providence<br>Refreshed her unaware.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She kept her line of rectitude<br>With love's unconscious ease;<br>Her kindly instincts understood<br>All gentle courtesies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An inborn charm of graciousness<br>Made sweet her smile and tone,<br>And glorified her farm-wife dress<br>With beauty not its own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dear Lord's best interpreters<br>Are humble human souls;<br>The Gospel of a life like hers<br>Is more than books or scrolls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From scheme and creed the light goes out,<br>The saintly fact survives;<br>The blessed Master none can doubt<br>Revealed in holy lives.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420698" data-title="The Friend’s Burial de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="My thoughts are all in yonder town, Where, wept by many tears, To-day my mother's friend lays down The burden of her years. True as in life, no poor disguise Of death with her is seen, And on her simple casket lies No wreath of bloom and green. ..."></div> </div> </div>

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