94
the memorial pebbles.
Alas! how transient all enjoyment here!
How soon a blight came o'er domestic bliss!
Yet 'twas a message from a brighter sphere
Which called her to a happier land than this.
The tender mother and the faithful wife
In meekness bowed her to the will divine:
Then in the darkest moments of her life
In full perfection did each virtue shine.
How soon a blight came o'er domestic bliss!
Yet 'twas a message from a brighter sphere
Which called her to a happier land than this.
The tender mother and the faithful wife
In meekness bowed her to the will divine:
Then in the darkest moments of her life
In full perfection did each virtue shine.
Affliction drew no murmur from her lip,
When by her couch one form was ever nigh;
Resigned was she death's bitter cup to sip,
Content beneath one tender gaze to die.
In faith she entered death's dark vale obscure—
She knew 'twas from the Cross the shadows fell;
And, in a dying Saviour's love secure,
She bade her loved and all the world farewell.
When by her couch one form was ever nigh;
Resigned was she death's bitter cup to sip,
Content beneath one tender gaze to die.
In faith she entered death's dark vale obscure—
She knew 'twas from the Cross the shadows fell;
And, in a dying Saviour's love secure,
She bade her loved and all the world farewell.
Lovely in life, and lovelier still in death,
She closed her eyes in holy, calm repose,
Leaving her virtue's essence like the breath
That sweetly trembles from the dew-fresh rose.
And oh! what holier words could love dictate,
To mark the spot where rests her gentle head?
Could angels view us from their blest estate,
How truly would it please the sainted dead!
She closed her eyes in holy, calm repose,
Leaving her virtue's essence like the breath
That sweetly trembles from the dew-fresh rose.
And oh! what holier words could love dictate,
To mark the spot where rests her gentle head?
Could angels view us from their blest estate,
How truly would it please the sainted dead!
