Like bitterness and balm,

We stood with him beside the black and silent river,
Cold, cold and soundless ever;
But there our feet were stayed--unloosed our clasping fond,
And he has passed beyond.

And still that solemn hymn, like smoke of sacrifice,
Clomb the blue April skies,
And on our anguish placed its sacramental chrism,
"Behold, the Lord is risen!"

Oh, bells of Easter morn! your mighty voices reach
A deeper depth than speech;
We heard, "Because He liveth _they_ shall live with Him;"
This was our Easter hymn.

And while the slow vibrations swell, and sink, and cease,
They bring divinest peace,
For we commit our best beloved to the dust,
In sure and certain trust.




IN THE SIERRA NEVADA


I lift my spirit to your cloudy thrones,
And feel it broaden to your vast expanse,