Gertrude Bloede (“Stuart Sterne”) (1845–1905)

FROM out eternal stillness do we come;

Into eternal silence do we go;

For was there not a time, and swift or slow,

Must come again, when all this world’s loud hum

Was naught to us, and must again grow dumb

Through all eternity?—Between two low,

Dark, stony portals, with much empty show

Of tinkling brass and sounding fife and drum,

The endless Caravan of Life moves on;

Or whence or whither, to what destiny,

But He who dwells beyond the furthest dawn

Knows, yet reveals not, evermore even He

In silence wrapt, though deepest thunders roll,

Save for His deathless message to our soul!