Poetry.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 34, 18 November 1893, Page 7

Poetry.

PASSING AWAY. They are passing away, the dear old friends One by one. They Lear the call that the Mastei sends, And are gone, j sometimes think that it cannot be, Their faces w< shall no longer see ; But ah ! ’tis a sad reality. Yes, they are gone. In the home there is a vacant chair Cannot be filled. The voice that made sweet music there For ever stilled. Yet, while the mourners hear no sound, The loving presence seems lingering round, In dear mementoes daily found With memories filled. Something is wanting to our sight, Go where we may. A shadow like the cloud of night Falls on our way. We miss them in the ousy street, The well-known forms we loved to meet; 'J heir words of welcome, warm and sweet, Are hushed for aye. Nobly they fought the battle of life ; Now they rest, Like heroes from the earthly strife, Crowned and blest. And higher work they will find to do, In the glorious land of the good and true ; While their Joy will be ever fresh and new To be with Christ. We who arc still on the borderland, Must follow on; Let us be ready at God’s command To enter in. Doing our duty while waiting here, Let the smile of hope dry affection’s tear, For soon we shall Join the loved ones there, Part —never again. I. A. A, B.