AFTER

On Sunday in the sunlight

With brightness round her strown

And murmuring beauty of the sky

At last her very own,

She who had loved all children

And all high things and clean

Turned away to silentness

And bliss unseen.

Rending, blinding anguish,

Is all a man can know;

Yet still I kneel beside her

For she would have it so,

Kneel and pray beside her

In light she left behind —

Light and love in silentness,

Sight to the blind.

Oh living light burn through me!

Oh speak, as spoke to me

Her deep sweet eyes and faithful,

Voice on Calvary!

Oh light be near and shining,

Nearer than I guess,

And teach me that true language

Of silentness!