To Kirkmaiden Church.

By Rev. D. R. Williamson

House of the Unseen God!

Thy silence speaks to me

Of those who sleep beneath the sod,

And once were known to thee;

For here my long-lost Father’s voice

Seems sounding evermore,

Like streams that bid the soul rejoice

On Memory’s starry shore!

How reverently he drew

Our footsteps nearer Heaven!

Even as he spake, around him grew

The gracious halo given

By steadfast Truth and fearless Love

To those whose thoughts are bless’d

With that sweet spirit from above—

The gentle strength of rest.

Around thee, in their graves,

The unforgotten lie;

The wandering wind the long grass waves

Above them hushfully;

Beyond bright fields the solemn sea

Is whispering of the Past:

Of those mine eyes no more may see

While earth and sorrow last!

Strange sadness thrills my heart,

While thus I gaze on thee;

I dream of friendships that depart,

And nevermore can be;

Yet o’er those ruins Death has wrought

Like Faith thy form doth rise,

To teach us that their souls have sought

The light of cloudless skies!