Backward is the past retreating,
Nearer, nearer draws our meeting
In the future, dim and far.




AFTER LIFE'S FEVER.


_Obiit, June, 1882_.

--"And then, a flood of light, a seraph's hymn,
And God's own smile, forever, and forever."

Oh! pale, calm face; eyes by the Death-kiss sealed,
Cold hands, upon the silent bosom folden;
Oh! soul, set free--of all sin's sickness healed,
Basking in light, from mortal eyes withholden,
_In coelo quies_.

Still heart, that ached and throbb'd with human passion,
Locks, white with snow of many a winter past,
Tired body, weary after earth's poor fashion,
Sleep calmly till the waking trumpet blast--
_In coelo quies_.

All over now--the heart-ache and the burning
Of thoughts, so trammelled by this "mortal coil;"
The soul has cast behind its moans and yearning,