Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.

The Friend’s Burial

John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892)

MY thoughts are all in yonder town,

Where, wept by many tears,

To-day my mother’s friend lays down

The burden of her years.

True as in life, no poor disguise

Of death with her is seen,

And on her simple casket lies

No wreath of bloom and green.

Oh, not for her the florist’s art,

The mocking weeds of woe;

Dear memories in each mourner’s heart

Like heaven’s white lilies blow.

And all about the softening air

Of new-born sweetness tells,

And the ungather’d May-flowers wear

The tints of ocean shells.

The old, assuring miracle

Is fresh as heretofore;

And earth takes up its parable

Of life from death once more.

Here organ-swell and church-bell toll

Methinks but discord were;

The prayerful silence of the soul

Is best befitting her.

No sound should break the quietude

Alike of earth and sky;

O wandering wind in Seabrook wood,

Breathe but a half-heard sigh!

Sing softly, spring-bird, for her sake;

And thou not distant sea,

Lapse lightly, as if Jesus spake,

And thou wert Galilee!

For all her quiet life flow’d on

As meadow streamlets flow,

Where fresher green reveals alone

The noiseless ways they go.

And if her life small leisure found

For feasting ear and eye,

And Pleasure, on her daily round,

She pass’d unpausing by,

Yet with her went a secret sense

Of all things sweet and fair,

And Beauty’s gracious providence

Refresh’d her unaware.

She kept her line of rectitude

With love’s unconscious ease;

Her kindly instincts understood

All gentle courtesies.

An inborn charm of graciousness

Made sweet her smile and tone,

And glorified her farm-wife dress

With beauty not its own.

The dear Lord’s best interpreters

Are humble human souls;

The Gospel of a life like hers

Is more than books or scrolls.

From scheme and creed the light goes out,

The saintly fact survives;

The blessèd Master none can doubt

Reveal’d in holy lives.