Love And Death

Alas! that men must see
    Love, before Death!
Else they content might be
    With their short breath;
Aye, glad, when the pale sun
Showed restless day was done,
And endless Rest begun.

Glad, when with strong, cool hand
    Death clasped their own,
And with a strange command
    Hushed every moan;
Glad to have finished pain,
And labor wrought in vain,
Blurred by Sin's deepening stain.

But Love's insistent voice
    Bids self to flee--
"Live that I may rejoice,
    Live on, for me!"
So, for Love's cruel mind,
Men fear this Rest to find,
Nor know great Death is kind!