God’s Acre

Hail, garden of confident hope! Where sweet seeds are quickening in darkness and cold; For how sweet and how young will they be When they pierce thro’ the mould. Balm, myrtle, and heliotrope There watch and there wait out of sight for their Sun: While the Sun, which they see not, doth see Each and all one by one.

“The flowers appear on the Earth.”

Young girls wear flowers, Young brides a flowery wreath, But next we plant them In garden plots of death. Whose lot is best: The maiden’s curtained rest, Or bride’s whose hoped-for sweet May yet outstrip her feet? Ah! what are such as these To death’s sufficing ease? He sleeps indeed who sleeps in peace Where night and morning meet. Dear are the blossoms For bride’s or maiden’s head, But dearer planted Around our blessed dead. Those mind us of decay And joys that fade away, These preach to us perfection, Long love and resurrection. We make our graveyards fair, For spirit-like birds of air, For Angels may be finding there Lost Eden’s own delection.

“Thou knewest...thou oughtest therefore.”

Behold in heaven a floating dazzling cloud, So dazzling that I could but cry Alas! Alas, because I felt how low I was; Alas, within my spirit if not aloud, Foreviewing my last breathless bed and shroud: Thus pondering, I glanced downward on the grass; And the grass bowed when airs of heaven would pass, Lifting itself again when it had bowed. That grass spake comfort; weak it was and low, Yet strong enough and high enough to bend In homage at a message from the sky: As the grass did and prospered, so will I; Tho’ knowing little, doing what I know, And strong in patient weakness till the end.

“Go in peace.”

Can peach renew lost bloom, Or violet lost perfume, Or sullied snow turn white as overnight? Man cannot compass it, yet never fear: The leper Naaman Shows what God will and can; God Who worked there is working here; Wherefore let shame, not gloom, betinge thy brow, God Who worked then is working now.