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Ada Cambridge - All-Saints` Day (1868)
Work rating: Medium

"But they are at peace."

Never to weary more, nor suffer sorrow,— 
    Their strife all over, and their work all done: 
At peace—and only waiting for the morrow; 
    Heaven`s rest and rapture even now begun. 

So tired once! long fetter`d, sorely burden`d, 
    Ye struggled hard and well for your release; 
Ye fought in faith and love—and ye are guerdon`d, 
    O happy souls! for now ye are at peace. 

No more of pain, no more of bitter weeping! 
    For us a darkness and an empty place, 
Somewhere a little dust—in angels` keeping— 
    A blessèd memory of a vanish`d face. 

For us the lonely path, the daily toiling, 
    The din and strife of battle, never still`d; 
For us the wounds, the hunger, and the soiling,— 
    The utter, speechless longing, unfulfill`d. 

For us the army camp`d upon the mountains, 
    Unseen, yet fighting with our Syrian foes,— 
The heaven-sent manna and the wayside fountains, 
    The hope and promise, sweetening our woes. 

For them the joyous spirit, freely ranging 
    Green hills and fields where never mortal trod; 
For them the light unfading and unchanging, 
    The perfect quietness—the peace of God. 

For both, a dim, mysterious, distant greeting; 
    For both, at Jesus` cross, a drawing near; 
At Eucharistic gate a blessed meeting, 
    When angels and archangels worship here. 

For both, God grant, an everlasting union, 
    When sin shall pass away and tears shall cease; 
For both the deep and full and true communion, 
    For both the happy life that is "at peace."
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