f was a signal and a promise that there should be no more sea? Even
so, was not this mortal life of ours, tempered as it is by sorrow and
tears, a further promise that, when the circle was completed, there
should be no more death?
[Sidenote: God's Love]
The deep voice went on, even more tenderly, to speak of God; not of His
power, but of His purpose, not of His justice, but His forgiveness, not
of His vengeance, but of His love. A love so vast and far-reaching that
there is no place where it is not; it enfolds not only our little world,
poised in infinite space like a mote in a sunbeam, but all the shining,
rolling worlds beyond. Every star that rises within our sight and all
the million stars beyond, in misty distances so great as to be
incomprehensible, are guided and surrounded by this same love. It is
impossible to conceive of a place where it is not--even in the midst of
pain, poverty, suffering, and death, God's love is there also. The
minister pleaded with those who listened to him to lean wholly upon this
all-sustaining, all-forgiving love; to believe that it sheltered both
the living and the dead, and to trust, simply, as a little child.
[Sidenote: At the Close of the Service]
In the stillness that followed, Eloise went to the piano. The worn
strings answered softly as her fingers touched the keys. In her full,
low contralto she sang, to an exquisite melody:
"When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree;
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
"I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget."
The deep, manly voice followed with a benediction, then the little group
of neighbours and friends went out with hushed and reverent step, into
the golden Autumn afternoon. Miriam came in, to all outward appearance
wholly unmoved. She stood by him for a moment, then turned away.
Eloise closed the door and Roger and Allan brought Barbara in. She bent
down to her father, who lay so quietly, with a smile of heavenly
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