Epitaph for a Young Writer

from her sad godfather

Jane! Your little drama now has ended
And your tiny stage is all serene;
Now the fragile curtain has descended,
Ending—it appears—your final scene.

Rather, know your Play is not diminished
In the hands of His Almighty Will;
Thus the final Act is never finished—
And must yet be more dramatic still.

Only dream of wonders in this sleeping!
Scintillating light and thrashing rain:
Heavens rolling, laughing stars, soft weeping—
All these marvels are your play-things, Jane!

Under this apocalyptic banner
God has granted you dramatic bliss;
He must surely love you in like manner,
Now to give you so much more of this.

Even as we wait for understanding,
Sadly must we ponder death and age;
Smiling yet, we see you now commanding—
Young for ever—an eternal stage.

with much love
and fond remembrance—Peter

16 March, 1993