THE LAND OF THE GONE-AWAY-SOULS

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Oh! that is a beautiful land I wis,

The land of the Gone-Away Souls.

Yes, a lovelier region by far than this

( Though this is a world most fair ),

The goodliest goal of all good goals,

Else why do our friends stay there?

I walk in a world that is sweet with friends,

And earth I have ever held dear;

Yes, love with duty and beauty blends,

To render the earth plane bright.

But faster and faster, year on year

My comrades hurry from sight.

They hurry away to the Over-There,

And few of them say Farewell.

Yes, they go away with a secret air

As if on a secret quest.

And they come not back to the earth to tell

Why that land seems the best.

Messages come from the mystic sphere,

But few know the code of that land;

Yes, many the message, but few who hear

In the din of the world below,

Or hearing the message, can understand

Those truths which we long to know.

But it must be the goal of all good goals,

And I think of it more and more,

Yes I think of that land of the Gone-Away-Souls

And its growing host of friends

Who will hail my bark when it touches shore

Where the last brief journey ends.