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 9. Consolations in Bereavement  DEATH was full urgent with thee, Sister dear, And startling in his speed; Brief pain, then languor till thy end came near Such was the path decreed,  The hurried road To lead thy soul from earth to thine own God's  abode.  Death wrought with thee, sweet maid, impatiently: Yet merciful the haste That baffles sickness; dearest, thou didst die, Thou wast not made to taste  Death's bitterness, Decline's slow-wasting charm, or fever's fierce  distress.  Death came unheralded: but it was well; For so thy Saviour bore Kind witness, thou wast meet at once to dwell On His eternal shore;  All warning spared, For none He gives where hearts are for prompt change  prepared.  Death wrought in mystery; both complaint and cure To human skill unknown: God put aside all means, to make us sure It was His deed alone;  Lest we should lay Reproach on our poor selves, that thou wast caught  away.  Death urged as scant of time: lest, Sister dear, We many a lingering day Had sicken'd with alternate hope and fear, The ague of delay;  Watching each spark Of promise quench'd in turn, till all our sky was  dark.  Death came and went: that so thy image might Our yearning hearts possess, Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright, With youth and loveliness;  Sorrow can claim, Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name.  Joy of sad hearts, and light of downcast eyes! Dearest thou art enshrined In all thy fragrance in our memories; For we must ever find  Bare thought of thee Freshen this weary life, while weary life shall be.  Oxford .  April, 1828.