The Test by Dennis Allen Lange

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This earthly life is a test to find
Which ones of us are the heavenly kind.

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The photo is mine – early morning in the Shenandoah Mountains.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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To The Queen by William Blake

The Door of Death is made of Gold,
That Mortal Eyes cannot behold;
But, when the Mortal Eyes are clos’d,
And cold and pale the Limbs repos’d,
The Soul awakes; and, wond’ring, sees
In her mild Hand the golden Keys;
The Grave is Heaven’s golden Gate,
And rich and poor around it wait;
O Shepherdess of England’s Fold,
Behold this Gate of Pearl and Gold!
To dedicate to England’s Queen
The Visions that my Soul has seen,
And, by her kind permission, bring
What I have borne on solemn Wing
From the vast regions of the Grave,
Before Her throne my Wings I wave;
Bowing before my Sov’reign’s Feet,
“The Grave produc’d these blossoms sweet
In mild repose from Earthly strife;
The Blossoms of Eternal life!”

 

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