It is so natural that we fall asleep
Like tired children when the day is done,
That I would question why the living weep
When Death has kissed the laughing lips of one.
We do not sigh when golden skies have donned
The purple shadows and the gray of night,
Because we know the morning lies beyond,
And we must wait a little while for light.
So when, grown weary with the care and strife,
Our loved ones find in sleep the peace they crave,
We should not weep, but learn to count this life
A prelude to the one beyond the grave;
And thus be happy for them, not distressed,
But lift our hearts with love to God, and smile,
And we, anon, like tried ones will rest,
If we will hope and wait—a little while.
—Ella Bentley.