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d the tomb. The Needed One. 'Twas not rare versatility, Nor gift of poesy or art, Nor piquant, sparkling _jeux d'esprit_ Which at the call of fancy come, That touched the universal heart, And won the world's encomium. It was not beauty's potent charm; For admiration followed her Unmindful of the rounded arm, The fair complexion's brilliancy, If form and features shapely were Or lacked the grace of symmetry. So not by marked, especial power She grew endeared to human thought, But just because, in trial's hour, Was loving service to be done Or sympathy and counsel sought, She made herself the needed one. Oh, great the blessedness must be Of heart and hand and brain alert In projects wise and manifold, Impending sorrow to avert That duller natures fail to see, Or stand aloof severe and cold! And who shall doubt that this is why In womanhood's florescent prime She passed the portals of the sky? As if a life thus truly given To purpose pure and act sublime Were needed also up in Heaven. "Thy Will Be Done." Sometimes the silver cord of life Is loosed at one brief stroke; As when the elements at strife, With Nature's wild contentions rife, Uproot the sturdy oak. Or fell disease, in patience borne, Attenuates the frame Till the meek sufferer, wan and worn, Of energy and beauty shorn, Death's sweet release would claim. By instant touch or long decay Is dissolution wrought; When, lost to earth, the grave and gay, The young and old who pass away, Abide in hallowed thought. In dear regard together drawn, Affection's debt to pay, Fond greetings we exchange at dawn With one who, ere the day be gone, Is bruised and lifeless clay. O thou in manhood's morning-time With health and hope elate, For whom in youth's enchanting prime The bells of promise seemed to chime, We mourn thy early fate! To us how sudden--yet to thee Perchance God kindly gave Some warning, ere the fatal key Unlocked the door of mystery That lies beyond the grave. Then let us hope that one who found Such favor, trust, and love, And cordial praise from all aroun
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