The Other World

by Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe

It lies around us like a cloud,   The world we do not see; Yet the sweet closing of an eye   May bring us there to be. Its gentle breezes fan our cheeks   Amid our worldly cares; Its gentle voices whisper love,   And mingle with our prayers. Sweet hearts around us throb and beat,   Sweet helping hands are stirred, And palpitates the veil between,   With breathings almost heard. The silence, awful, sweet, and calm,   They have no power to break; For mortal words are not for them   To utter or partake. So thin, so soft, so sweet they glide,   So near to press they seem, They lull us gently to our rest,   They melt into our dream. And, in the hush of rest they bring,   ’T is easy now to see How lovely and how sweet a pass   The hour of death may be;— To close the eye and close the ear,   Wrapped in a trance of bliss, And, gently drawn in loving arms,   To swoon from that to this:— Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep,   Scarce asking where we are, To feel all evil sink away,   All sorrow and all care! Sweet souls around us! watch us still,   Press nearer to our side; Into our thoughts, into our prayers,   With gentle helping glide. Let death between us be as naught,   A dried and vanished stream; Your joy be the reality,   Our suffering life the dream.