POEMS OF JAMES RYDER RANDALL
IN MEMORIAM
Father and Lord! We know full well
Thy chastisements are for the best;
And while the loved and lost are blest,
Our hearts throb like a funeral bell,
Although the weary are at rest.
We bow to Thy decree, we bow
To that dread stroke which bore away,
To regions of eternal day,
Our darling boy, whose starry brow
Beamed like a golden morn of May.
And yet, dear God, how hard to yield,
Even to Thee, that precious life—
Bequeathed to glory without strife,
Without a scar or battle-field—
But with Love’s tenderest virtues rife.
He came to us as sunshine falls
Upon a sorrow-stricken hearth.
He came with innocence and mirth;
His voice made music in our halls—
How can we hide him in the earth?
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