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Wisdom of the Ages

By George A. Fuller

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XXV

The world declares, oh, Death, that thou art cruel and relentless. That thy mission is to shatter and destroy all that it holds of the beautiful.

That thou lovest to wound the mother-heart, and to rock and sway the proud father-heart with grief that will not be assuaged.

That thou bringest to one common level those whom the world respects and loves and those whom the world styles its outcasts.

That all hearts are vulnerable to thine arrows, and each form matter assumes must bow before thy stern decree.

Speaketh the world wisely?

Thy vision must be obscured and all thy spiritual faculties blunted, or thou wouldst not speak as thou hast spoken.

Thou art neither cruel nor relentless, oh, Death, for thy mission is one of love and not of anger.

Thou art, indeed, the most beautiful of all the messengers of Omn!

Thou art not as poets and artists have pictured thee: old, haggard and terrible.

Thy cheeks have stolen the roseate tints of the morn; thou art as graceful in all thy movements as the fawns, and thy features reflect nothing more terrible than peace and love!

Thy mission is not that of destruction more than it is that of re-creation.

The golden bowl that held the prize of life is broken only that the spirit might find elsewhere a more glorious setting.

The temple that had grown too small to hold longer its proud inmate has fallen—but there are other temples more spacious and beautiful awaiting the advent of the soul.

Oh, Death, thou hast given a broader liberty, a more glorious freedom to the soul.

Thy door swings inward, noiselessly opening upon enchanted chambers radiant with unwonted light and glory such as earth hath never known.

Thou kissest down the eyelids in sleep, oh, Death, and imprinteth upon the lips the seal of immortality.

Beautiful, indeed, at thy gentle touch bath been the awakening into newer experiences.

Not, as some have said, into a new life, for it is the same old life that has unfalteringly kept its march through the ages, but thou hast simply brought it a little nearer to its ideals.

Behold the great company with which the soul now stands! For the call of the spirit has been answered, and its own have come at its bidding.

New fields lie open before thee, loftier heights than e’er thy feet have scaled stretch on and on before thee, oh, soul.

Death hath not robbed thee of thy treasures, oh, soul. All the good that thou hast done, all the noble thoughts thou hast expressed, live and are with thee still.

Instead of Death thou shouldst be called Life, for thou holdest within thy hands the keys that unlock the doors of space and time.