On the Death of Mrs. Lynn Linton

Kind, wise, and true as truth's own heart,     A soul that here     Chose and held fast the better part     And cast out fear,     Has left us ere we dreamed of death     For life so strong,     Clear as the sundawn's light and breath,     And sweet as song.     We see no more what here awhile     Shed light on men:     Has Landor seen that brave bright smile     Alive again?     If death and life and love be one     And hope no lie     And night no stronger than the sun,     These cannot die.     The father-spirit whence her soul     Took strength, and gave     Back love, is perfect yet and whole,     As hope might crave.     His word is living light and fire:     And hers shall live     By grace of all good gifts the sire     Gave power to give.     The sire and daughter, twain and one     In quest and goal,     Stand face to face beyond the sun,     And soul to soul.     Not we, who loved them well, may dream     What joy sublime     Is theirs, if dawn through darkness gleam,     And life through time.     Time seems but here the mask of death,     That falls and shows     A void where hope may draw not breath:     Night only knows.     Love knows not: all that love may keep     Glad memory gives:     The spirit of the days that sleep     Still wakes and lives.     But not the spirit's self, though song     Would lend it speech,     May touch the goal that hope might long     In vain to reach.     How dear that high true heart, how sweet     Those keen kind eyes,     Love knows, who knows how fiery fleet     Is life that flies.     If life there be that flies not, fair     The life must be     That thrills her sovereign spirit there     And sets it free.