Transfiguration

Mysterious death! who in a single

Life's gold can so

And by thy art

Change mortal weakness to immortal power!

Bending beneath the weight of eighty

Spent with the noble strifeof a victorious

We watched her fading heavenward, through our tears.

But ere the sense of loss our hearts had wrungA miracle was wrought;

And swift as happy

She lived again — brave, beautiful, and young.

Age, pain, and sorrow dropped the veils they

And showed the tender

Of angels in disguise,

Whose discipline so patiently she bore.

The past years brought their harvest rich and fair;

While memory and love,

Together, fondly woveA golden garland for the silver hair.

How could we mourn like those who are bereft,

When every pang of grieffound balm for its

In counting up the treasures she had left?—Faith that withstood the shocks of toil and time;

Hope that defied despair;

Patience that conquered care;

And loyalty, whose courage was sublime;

The great deep heart that was a home for all—Just, eloquent, and

In protest against wrong;

Wide charity, that knew no sin, no fall;

The spartan spirit that made life so grand,

Mating poor daily

With high, heroic deeds,

That wrested happiness from Fate's hard hand.

We thought to weep, but sing for joy instead,

Full of the grateful

That follows her release;

For nothing but the weary dust lies dead.

Oh, noble woman! never more a

Than in the laying

Of sceptre and of

To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen;

Teaching us how to seek the highest goal,

To earn the true success —To live, to love, to bless —And make death proud to take a royal soul.