28
Poems.
The soul will soar beyond the sky,
To hold communion with the blest.
Our life is short,—'tis very brief,
Our journey 's quickly pest;
'Tis but a cup of joy and grief,
A little time to last.
To hold communion with the blest.
Our life is short,—'tis very brief,
Our journey 's quickly pest;
'Tis but a cup of joy and grief,
A little time to last.
How soon the sand of life is sped!
How swift our moments fly:
A few years past, and with the dead,
Our fragile forms must lie.
Then, let us bend our thoughts above,
To that eternal state,
Where all is goodness, all is love,
And joys unfading wait.
How swift our moments fly:
A few years past, and with the dead,
Our fragile forms must lie.
Then, let us bend our thoughts above,
To that eternal state,
Where all is goodness, all is love,
And joys unfading wait.
CHILD WEEPING AT A GRAVE-YARD.
Dear child, why dost thou linger here,
With such a look of grief!
Let me brush oft that falling tear,
And offer some relief.
Thy little breast is young, to feel
Affliction's poignant dart;
Why doth the tear-drop silent steal?
What sorrow grieves thy heart?
With such a look of grief!
Let me brush oft that falling tear,
And offer some relief.
Thy little breast is young, to feel
Affliction's poignant dart;
Why doth the tear-drop silent steal?
What sorrow grieves thy heart?
