THEIR MORE PERFECT DAY.

New Zealand Tablet, 3 June 1920, Page 23

THEIR MORE PERFECT DAY.

h y bring your hero dead from France They are not there I The outer garments of their birth Lie scattered with the dust of earth. Nay, they are not there, But freed from bonds of human care krill mingle with the living everywhere, lis but a veil divides them from the view; Our finite senses ne’er can enter through t Save in the quiet of the midnight deep, When life withdraws its mantle from our sleep. In that dim borderland where time doth cease, Iho spirits of your loved have found release. Why bring your hero dead from France ? They are not there I The sight of grief o’er mortal clay But saddens their more perfect day. Nay, let them lie, ' And lift your gaze unto the sunset sky, Where trails the glory of its rays on high, Or, where the dome of heaven’s starry light Unfolds its splendor to our earthly sight. W here sphere on sphere in calm array A down the ages hold eternal sway, Or gleams the light of some bright star, 1 hroughs’time and space reflected from afar—• There with Eternity your loved ones stand, Held safely in the “Hollow of His Hand.’' 5 —Anna May Dudley, in the Nexv York Herald.