When She Went On

How white and calm and still she lay! The little child-like hands at rest, Folded so lightly on her breast-- It seemed some solemn wonder-play!

The waxen lids pressed down her eyes, Blue, wistful eyes that could not see How still beside her tenderly We kept our useless ministries.

One smoothed the pillow at her head, With hands that trembled overmuch; And drew the sheet with lingering touch, And closed the books that she had read.

The little room still seemed to hold All of her warm, bright, living self; The empty slippers on the shelf Still kept her foot’s slim mold.

O restless feet that could not wait Our slower footsteps, blundering, fond; Turn back to us when soon or late We seek you in the Land Beyond.