The Love of Life

"My son is dead!" the aged woman wailed,"My son, who was the only help I had!My good, good son is dead—my faithful ladWho ne'er in duty to his mother failed!"

Eager to comfort her distress, I spokeWords that have solaced many a soul bereavedSince kingly David uttered them when, grieved,First to its final loss his heart awoke.

"Though he, indeed, shall not to you return,Yet, sorrowing mother, you shall go to him.Lo, even now, your lamp of life burns dim,And you may find him soon for whom you yearn!"

Sudden the tears ceased on that face of woeAs the poor creature turned my words to meet,And sighed, to my amaze:—"Still, life is sweet!"Then I perceived she had no wish to go.