There was grief within our household Because of a vacant chair.
Our mother, so loved and precious, No longer was sitting there.
Our hearts grew heavy with sorrow, Our eyes with tears were blind, And little Jamie was wondering, Why we were left behind.
We had told our little darling, Of the land of love and light, Of the saints all crowned with glory, And enrobed in spotless white.
We said that our precious mother, Had gone to that land so fair, To dwell with beautiful angels, And to be forever there.
But the child was sorely puzzled, Why dear grandmamma should go To dwell in a stranger city, When her children loved her so.
But again the mystic angel Came with swift and silent tread, And our sister, Jamie's mother, Was enrolled among the dead.
To us the mystery deepened, To Jamie it seemed more clear;TRUTH.
Grandma, he said, must be lonesome, And mamma has gone to her.
But the question lies unanswered In our little Jamie's mind, Why she should go to our mother, And leave her children behind;To dwell in that lovely city, From all that was dear to part, From children who loved to nestle So closely around her heart.
Dear child, like you, we are puzzled, With problems that still remain;But think in the great hereafter Their meaning will all be plain.
A rock, for ages, stern and high, Stood frowning 'gainst the earth and sky, And never bowed his haughty crest When angry storms around him prest.
Morn, springing from the arms of night, Had often bathed his brow with light.
And kissed the shadows from his face With tender love and gentle grace.
Day, pausing at the gates of rest, Smiled on him from the distant West, And from her throne the dark-browed Night Threw round his path her softest light.
And yet he stood unmoved and proud, Nor love, nor wrath, his spirit bowed;He bared his brow to every blast And scorned the tempest as it passed.
One day a tiny, humble seed- The keenest eye would hardly heed- Fell trembling at that stern rock's base, And found a lowly hiding-place.
A ray of light, and drop of dew, Came with a message, kind and true;They told her of the world so bright, Its love, its joy, and rosy light, And lured her from her hiding-place, To gaze upon earth's glorious face.
So, peeping timid from the ground, She clasped the ancient rock around, And climbing up with childish grace, She held him with a close embrace;DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING.
Her clinging was a thing of dread;Where'er she touched a fissure spread, And he who'd breasted many a storm Stood frowning there, a mangled form;A Truth, dropped in the silent earth, May seem a thing of little worth, Till, spreading round some mighty wrong, It saps its pillars proud and strong, And o'er the fallen ruin weaves The brightest blooms and fairest leaves.
'Twas a fearful night--the tempest raved With loud and wrathful pride, The storm-king harnessed his lightning steeds, And rode on the raging tide.
The sea-king lay on his bed of death, Pale mourners around him bent;They knew the wild and fitful life Of their chief was almost spent.
His ear was growing dull in death When the angry storm he heard.
The sluggish blood in the old man's veins With sudden vigor stirred.
"I hear them call," cried the dying man, His eyes grew full of light;"Now bring me here my warrior robes, My sword and armor bright.
"In the tempest's lull I heard a voice, I knew 'twas Odin's call.
The Valkyrs are gathering round my bed To lead me unto his hall.
"Bear me unto my noblest ship, Light up a funeral pyre;I'll walk to the palace of the braves Through a path of flame and fire."
Oh! wild and bright was the stormy light That flashed from the old man's eye, As they bore him from the couch of death To his battle-ship to die, And lit with many a mournful torch The sea-king's dying bed, And like a banner fair and bright The flames around him spread.
