For those we love within the veil
Who were the parents of our way
We thank you, Lord; for they have won
To cloudless day;
And life for them is life indeed,
The splendid goal of earth’s strait race;
And where no shadows intervene
They see your face.
Not as we knew them anymore,
Toil-worn with earthly burdened care.
Erect, clear-eyed, upon their brows
Your Name they bear.
Free from the fret of mortal years,
And knowing now your perfect will,
With quickened sense and heightened joy,
They serve you still.
O fuller, sweeter is that life,
And larger, ampler is the air;
Eye cannot see nor heart conceive
The glory there;
Nor know to what high purpose you
Do yet employ their ripened powers,
Nor how at your command they touch
This life of ours.
There are no tears within their eyes;
With love they keep perpetual tryst;
And praise and work and rest are one,
With you, O Christ.
Adapted from the poem
by
William Charter Piggott
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DEAR ANCESTOR
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care.
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist;
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved;
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
Author Unknown
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