The Rest in Death

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Apr 2, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 14.

The Rest in Death

If the dead lying under the grasses, Unseen, linger near the bereft, Having knowledge and sense of what passes In the hearts and the homes they have left, What tear-drops, than sea water salter, Must fall as they watch all the strife; When they see how we fall, how we falter, How we miss in the duties of life.

If the great who go out with their faces Bedewed by a weeping world's tears, Stand near, and can see how their places Are filled, while the multitude cheers; If the parent, whose back is bent double With delving for riches and gold, Lends an ear to the wrangle and trouble About him before he is cold;

If the wife, who left weeping and sorrow Behind her, bends down from above And beholds the tears dried on the morrow And the eyes newly burning with love; If the gracious and royal-souled mother, From the silence and hush of her tomb, Can hear the harsh voice of another, Slow blighting the fruit of her womb;

If the old hear their dearly begotten Rejoicing that burdens are gone; If the young know how soon they're forgotten, While the mirth and the revel go on; What sighing of sorrow and anguish Must sound through the chambers of space! What desolate spirits must languish In that mystic and undescribed place!

Then life were a farce with its burden, And death but a terrible jest; But they can not. The grave gives its guerdon Of silence and beautiful rest. —Life Only in Christ.