The Kiss of God

WHEN the great leader’s task was done,

He stood on Pisgah’s height,

And saw, far off, the westering sun

Drop down into the night;

Saw, too, the land in which, alas!

He might not hope to dwell

Spread fairly out; and then—for so

Talmudic legends tell—.

Jehovah touched him and he slept;

And smooth the mountain sod

Was levelled o’er him and ’twas writ

“Died by the kiss of God.”

The kiss of God! We talk of death

In many learned ways,—

We know so much,—which of them all

So simple in its praise

As this which from the oldest days

Has treasured been apart,

To comfort in this heel of time

The mourner’s aching heart?

We walk our bright or desert road

And, when we reach the end,

Bends o’er us with gentle face

The Universal Friend.

Upon our lips his own are laid:

We do not strive or cry.

The kiss of God! Upon that kiss

It is not hard to die.