THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, Shall I have nought that is fair?" saith he; 66 Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The reaper said, and smiled; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, 66 Where he was once a child. They shall all bloom in fields of light, And saints, upon their garments white, And the mother gave, in tears and pain, She knew she should find them all again O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlour wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more; He, the young and strong, who cherished By the road-side fell and perished, They, the holy ones and weakly, And with them the Being Beauteous, With a slow and noiseless footstep And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, O, though oft depressed and lonely, If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died! |