Remembering Bill
Join us for a celebration of Bill's life
on his birthday ~ April 29, 2012
36 Hemlock Ave Newton NJ 07860
Starting at 12:00 noon
Please RSVP by April 20th to Cindy Foltyn at
973-670-3880
Bring your stories to share or share them on Bill’s memorial site. I would love it if you could make me copies of any pictures you may have or bring the originals so I can scan them while you are here. You can also email stories, memories, and pictures to billfoltyn@gmail.com or post them to Bill’s Facebook page: facebook.com/billfoltyn. We will have plenty of delicious food and good company. I Hope to see you!
There Is No Death by J. L. McCreery
There is
no death! The stars go down
To rise
upon some other shore,
And bright
in heaven's jeweled crown
They shine
forevermore.
There is
no death! The forest leaves
Convert to
life the viewless air;
The rocks disorganize
to feed
The hungry
moss they bear.
There is
no death! The dust we tread
Shall
change, beneath the summer showers
To golden
grain, or mellowed fruit,
Or
rainbow-tinted flowers.
There is
no death! The leaves may fall,
And
flowers may fade and pass away--
They only
wait, through wintry hours,
The warm,
sweet breath of May.
There is
no death! The choicest gifts
That
heaven hath kindly lent to earth
Are ever
first to seek again
The
country of their birth.
And all
things that for growth or joy
Are worthy
of our love or care,
Whose loss
has left us desolate,
Are safely
garnered there.
Though
life becomes a desert waste,
We know
it's fairest, sweetest flowers,
Transplanted
into Paradise,
Adorn
immortal bowers.
The voice
of birdlike melody
That we have
missed and mourned so long,
Now
mingles with the angel choir
In
everlasting song.
There is
no death! Although we grieve
When
beautiful, familiar forms
That we
have learned to love are torn
From our
embracing arms--
Photo: Bill on a mountain in Mexico
Photo: Uncle Bill's birthday hat by Meaghan Norman
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Although with bowed and breaking
heart,
With sable garb and silent tread,
We bear their senseless dust to
rest,
And say that they are
"dead,"
They are not dead! They have but
passed
Beyond the mists that blind us here
Into the new and larger life
Of that serener sphere.
They have but dropped their robe of
clay
To put their shining raiment on;
They have not wandered far away--
They are not "lost" nor "gone."
Though disenthralled and glorified
They still are here and love us yet;
The dear ones they have left behind
They never can forget.
And sometimes, when our hearts grow
faint
Amid temptations fierce and deep,
Or when the wildly raging waves
Of grief or passion sweep,
We feel upon our fevered brow
Their gentle touch, their breath of
balm;
Their arms enfold us, and our hearts
Grow comforted and calm.
And ever near us, though unseen,
The dear, immortal spirits tread--
For all the boundless universe
Is Life--there are no dead!
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