'"
He earned his place. Within his hands,
The power which counsels and commands,
And shapes the social life of lands,
Became a blessing pure and deep.
Through thirty years of turbulence
Our thoughts were sweetened with a sense
Of his benignant influence --
"He giveth His beloved sleep."
No splendid talents, which excite
Like music, songs, or floods of light,
Were his; but, rather, all those bright,
Calm qualities of soul which reap
A mute, but certain, fine respect,
Not only from a source elect,
But from the hearts of every sect --
"He giveth His beloved sleep."
He giveth His beloved rest!
The faithful soul that onward pressed,
Unswerving, from Life's east to west,
By paths austere and passes steep,
Is past all toil; and, over Death,
With reverent hands and prayerful breath,
I plant this flower, alive with faith --
"He giveth His beloved sleep."
Araluen
--
* Araluen: The poet's daughter, who died in infancy.
--
Take this rose, and very gently place it on the tender, deep
Mosses where our little darling, Araluen, lies asleep.
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