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Home  »  The Book of Sorrow  »  John Henry Newman (1801–1890)

Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.

A Voice from afar

John Henry Newman (1801–1890)

WEEP not for me;—

Be blithe as wont, nor tinge with gloom

The stream of love that circles home,

Light hearts and free!

Joy in the gifts Heaven’s bounty lends;

Nor miss my face, dear friends!

I still am near;—

Watching the smiles I prized on earth,

Your converse mild, your blameless mirth;

Now too I hear

Of whisper’d sounds the tale complete,

Low prayers, and musings sweet.

A sea before

The Throne is spread;—its pure still glass

Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass.

We, on its shore,

Share, in the bosom of our rest,

God’s knowledge, and are blest.