[Written for the Sentinel]

"No death"

They tell me he has died;But is he dead?Do the bright planets circling overheadInto the morning's blue oblivion slide?He is not dead;'Tis only death that died.Old mysteries to him shall open wide,New hope be given,And brightly burn its guiding light to heaven,

Man never died!But Vigorous, active, strong,—'Tis natural that all of us belongTo such as these.Man is what God decrees;And nothing of a mythologic senseCan ever trespass on his innocence,Or make him subject to an Adam-dream.It was Elohim's planThat man should have dominion and be free,In full assurance of his harmony.For only such a man could well expressThe law and order of the universeOf spiritual perfection, and of peace.Turn, then, to find surceaseFrom sorrow's thralldom by denying sense,Which, through the physical, claims evidenceThat man is dead, and death legitimate.If we give credence to such ignorance,We fetter faith; and claiming to condenseThe Mind of Christ in matter's empty shell,We cling to earth, as sinners cling to hell.But all unseen to finite time or tide,Beyond the limit of a land-locked sea,O'er wider waters where the great ships glide,His bark sails onward into harmony.

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