Vesta

 O CHRIST of God! whose life and death 
 Our own have reconciled, 
Most quietly, most tenderly 
 Take home thy star-named child! 

Thy grace is in her patient eyes, 
 Thy words are on her tongue; 
The very silence round her seems 
 As if the angels sung.
 

Her smile is as a listening child's 
 Who hears its mother's call; 
The lilies of Thy perfect peace 
 About her pillow fall.
 

She leans from out our clinging arms 
 To rest herself in Thine; 
Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we 
 Our well-beloved resign.
 

O, less for her than for ourselves 
 We bow our heads and pray; 
Her setting star, like Bethlehem's, 
 To Thee shall point the way!

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