When death, the great physician, has released
Her spirit from its citadel of pain
Where she was prisoner and could not climb
To view the glory from the mountain tops?
Her heart was like a silent violin
That throbbed and wept with unvoiced melodies
Which even now on that Eternal Shore
Are bursting forth in joyous, vibrant tones
Whose echoes can be heard within our souls.
Her spirit that was waiting for release
Is soaring now and finding recompense
For all she could not do while tarrying here.
The doors, once closed, are swinging wide today--
A new world is before her to explore.
Then dry your tears and let your voices ring
And join with hers in glad, exultant song
That death has brought unending victory.
Reflections
