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Death
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Another Room
Source unknown
Another Room
Source unknown
No, not cold beneath the grasses, Living, like the man who loves me, Nearer than my son whom fortune Shall I doubt my Father's mercy? Shall I blame my Father's wisdom? Robert Freeman
Not close-walled within the tomb;
Rather, in our Father's mansion,
Living, in another room.
Like my child with cheeks abloom,
Out of sight, at desk or schoolbook,
Busy, in another room.
Beckons where the strange lands loom;
Just behind the hanging curtain,
Serving, in another room.
Shall I think of death as doom,
Or the stepping o'er the threshold
To a bigger, brighter room?
Shall I sit enswathed in gloom,
When I know my loves are happy,
