Heaven's Need

Lucy Larcom (1824โ€“1893)

YE who, passing, bore awayBest of sunshine from our day,โ€”That rare glory which revivesOn the sky of clouded lives,When, through mists at evening rent,Rays from inmost heaven are sent,โ€”What of earth to you remains,Mid imperishable gains?

Mother-love, unchilled by change,Absence wide, and coldness strange,โ€”Mother-love, that here must yearnVainly for its full returnFrom the shallow heart of youth,โ€”Art requited now, in truth?Or does thy dumb longing goThrough heaven's happy overflow?

Sister-love, so calm, so wise!Starlight, risen on darkened skies;Heart that made its rifled nestShelter for the homeless guest,โ€”Of thy tenderness bereft,Little warmth in life is left.Has that new world's flood of blissSwept apart the ties of this?

None may name a drearier thought;โ€”Hearts we lean on need us not.If they ask for us no more,Gathering in heaven's affluent store,Life is lonelier than we knew;Sharper anguish thrills death through.In this rubbish-heap of earthHides no pearl heaven's saving worth?

God is good. His face they see,And are glad eternally.Yet they hear love's wordless prayer,โ€”Sigh that stirs the peaceful air,And our yearning secret tellsTo the bending asphodels.Lacks one drop their cup to fill;Still they want us, wait us still.