Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
'Tis sorrow builds the shining ladder up, Whose golden rounds are our calamities, Whereon our firm feet planting, nearer God The spirit climbs, and hath its eyes unsealed. True it is that Death's face seems stern and cold When he is sent to summon those we love But all God's angels come to us disguised Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, One after another, lift their frowning masks, And we behold the Seraph's face beneath, All radiant with the Glory and the calm Of having looked upon the front of God.
We look at death through the cheap-glazed windows of the flesh, and believe him the monster which the flawed and cracked glass represents him.
But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet Lessen like sound of friends' departing feet And Death is beautiful as feet of friend Coming with welcome at our journey's end.
Life is the jailer, death the angel sent to draw the unwilling bolts and set us free.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories