Almost Home.

Almost Home.
F. H. Stauffer.
330.6

“Are we almost home?”י
Ah, yes, wan pilgrim!
Wanderer on the shores of Time,
With shattered staff.
And beard all white with tline-
Journeying to the Mecca of the soul;
At first the cradle and at last the goal,
Sweet the answering echoes come:
“Almost home!”

“Are we almost home?”
Ah, yes, sweet child,
Trusting. nesting on the breast
That would have thee stay,
Yet envies thee the rest,
Still keeping on the vestibule of life.
With no laurels gathered in the strife:
Low the angel whisperings come:
“Almost home!”

“Are we almost home ?”
Ah, yes, dear girl,
Lingering in this world below.
Like watchers counting
Thy pulsations as they come and go:
Living to wear ere long the bridal vell;
Dying to wear instead the shroud as pale-
First the altar, then the tomb-
“Almost homel”