Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/371

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"WITH THEM THAT DO REJOICE".
263
Yes, Death, I own I grudge thee mine
Poor little hand, so feeble now;
Its wrinkled palm, its altered line,
Its veins so pallid and so slow—

. . . (Unfinished here.)

Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
I shall be free when thou art through.
Take all there is—take hand and heart;
There must be somewhere work to do.


"WITH THEM THAT DO REJOICE."
A CONGRATULATION.

ALL yesterday our sky was cold and gray;
A misty wall of cloud hid from our sight
The mountain-tops; the plains stretched cold and white,
And snow-flakes slowly floated down and lay
Like funeral flowers about the pallid day.
Sudden at noon the sky to south grew bright,
Turned blue, was radiant in full sunny light.
Beneath our clouds we sat, and looked away
Into this glowing south till sunset. So
Into my life's gray calm to-day there fell
Message that two I love had come to know
The one great earthly joy no words can tell.
Dear Hearts, I think light from your South will flow
To me until the tolling sunset-bell.