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A good friend of mine sent me this yesterday -- she is planning a memorial service for a friend of hers, and this is a poem they are reading. I liked it and thought I'd share it here.


I am standing on the seashore,

A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.

She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her

Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:

"She is gone."

Gone! Where?

Gone from my sight - that is all.

She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her

And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.

The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

"She is gone",

There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:

"There she comes"

- and that is dying. A horizon and just the limit of our sight.

Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.

Bishop Brent

1862 - 1926

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