Failing Years

My eyes are dim. I can no longer see
   The distant scenes of Earth I used to love.
While mists have veiled the glory of the stars
   That circle in the purple vault above.
Yet He who marks the sparrow's wavering flight
   Is not unmindful of his little one.
He gives indeed the spiritual sight;
   Revealing glories earth has never known.

My hearing fails. The music of the birds
   That fill the air with melody in Spring
Is fast becoming just a memory.
   Wind in all the pine trees, distant bells that ring
No longer penetrate with joyful sound
   The silence where I dwell so oft alone.
Yet melodies are ringing in my heart
   Which for the loss of all earth's sounds atone.

My voice is gone. I cannot sing his praise
   Or speak the wondrous message of his love.
Yet deep within my heart the anthems ring
   And incense rises to his courts above.
I cannot sing - but I can write the songs
   That other lips may sing in coming years.
Oh! how my spirit swells with love for him
   That oft finds outlet only in my tears.

I gave myself a willing sacrifice
   An offering freely on God's altar laid
Shall I complain or grieve that He accepts
   My talents? Shall the disposition made
Of them distress my soul? Ah, no, dear Lord!
   Take as thou wilt, my voice, my eyes, my ears,
I'll praise thee still if only with my pen
   And worship silently amid my tears.

Some day I know the offering, consumed
   Upon thine Altar, shall bring praise to thee,
And thou wilt wake thy child in happier spheres
   Where heaven's beauty undimmed eyes shall see.
There shall we hear thy voice and sing thy praise
   When ears are opened, speech no more restrained.
Set free from all the hills and bounds of flesh
   We'll show thy beauty to a world reclaimed.

Laura Kathleen Poole.