Nearer

One sweet and precious thoughtComes to me every night,When dying day flushes the westWith blood-red gleams of light;I'm nearer to the perfect life,Nearer the great To-Be,—Nearer the night when peace shall come!Nearer, my love, to thee!

The winter's cruel coldSweeps o'er thy graveyard bed;The white snow hovers tenderlyO'er thy unconscious head;But peace and calm drop on my heartWith each declining sun,For then, I think, 'twill not be longBefore we shall be one.

Through toil of hand and brain,And heaviness of heart,—Through all these long-drawn yearsSince we have been apart,—At each pale twilight's fallAlong the woodlands dim,Some spirit-voice has whispered me,"A day's length nearer him!"

Oh, Loved! and Lost! I wait,And dream of the To-Come!In faith I'm trusting Death to bringMe to my one dear home.And in the golden glowUpon that summer shore,We shall clasp hands, to live and loveThrough all Forevermore.