Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

VII. Death: Immortality: Heaven

When

Sarah Chauncey Woolsey (Susan Coolidge) (1835–1905)

IF I were told that I must die to-morrow,

That the next sun

Which sinks should bear me past all fear and sorrow

For any one,

All the fight fought, all the short journey through,

What should I do?

I do not think that I should shrink or falter,

But just go on,

Doing my work, nor change nor seek to alter

Aught that is gone;

But rise and move and love and smile and pray

For one more day.

And, lying down at night for a last sleeping,

Say in that ear

Which hearkens ever: “Lord, within thy keeping

How should I fear?

And when to-morrow brings thee nearer still,

Do thou thy will.”

I might not sleep for awe; but peaceful, tender,

My soul would lie

All the night long; and when the morning splendor

Flushed o’er the sky,

I think that I could smile—could calmly say,

“It is his day.”

But if a wondrous hand from the blue yonder

Held out a scroll,

On which my life was writ, and I with wonder

Beheld unroll

To a long century’s end its mystic clew,

What should I do?

What could I do, O blessèd Guide and Master,

Other than this;

Still to go on as now, not slower, faster,

Nor fear to miss

The road, although so very long it be,

While led by thee?

Step after step, feeling thee close beside me,

Although unseen,

Through thorns, through flowers, whether the tempest hide thee,

Or heavens serene,

Assured thy faithfulness cannot betray,

Thy love decay.

I may not know; my God, no hand revealeth

Thy counsels wise;

Along the path a deepening shadow stealeth,

No voice replies

To all my questioning thought, the time to tell;

And it is well.

Let me keep on, abiding and unfearing

Thy will always,

Through a long century’s ripening fruition

Or a short day’s;

Thou canst not come too soon; and I can wait

If thou come late.