The Endless, Not Dead

The Endless, Not Dead

O beloved! thy cemetery
Where I learn to tread,

Has exalted thoughts sundry

For the like endless.

Yea, the endless, not dead.

Who says that thou are dead

Against the belief supernal that

Fear and grief mar thou not.

And while I believe, others don’t,

Yet bedaubing the self with thy dust.

At the threshold of thy sanctuary

Are the souls yearning and striving;

Seeking grace in a kingdom heavenly.

Love they thou, and I too

In all humility and solemnity.

Till others believe what is over head

And recuperate hearts dead,

Let us hold to our belief

And start singing the chorus:

O thou and us, dead only to the self;

Yea, the endless, not dead.