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ON THE DEATH OF THE DOWAGER LADY POWERSCOURT.
Hail ye now a happy soul!
From our world of woe and care,
Lo! she gains the blissful goal,
Comes your heavenly joys to share,
Through the portals of the grave,
In the steps her Saviour trod,
Who in death the victory gave,
And conveyed her home to God.
From our world of woe and care,
Lo! she gains the blissful goal,
Comes your heavenly joys to share,
Through the portals of the grave,
In the steps her Saviour trod,
Who in death the victory gave,
And conveyed her home to God.
Clothed in garments pure and white,
Cleansed in Calvary's crimson flood,
Sinners! who (in robes so bright)
Comes to view her Saviour, God?
She who gains a heavenly crown
Earthly honors meekly wore,
Gladly laid the burden down,—
Powerscourt was the name she bore.
Cleansed in Calvary's crimson flood,
Sinners! who (in robes so bright)
Comes to view her Saviour, God?
She who gains a heavenly crown
Earthly honors meekly wore,
Gladly laid the burden down,—
Powerscourt was the name she bore.
Wealth was hers, but she had learned
Where alone true riches lie,
And from worldly treasures turned,
Seeking those beyond the sky.
Where alone true riches lie,
And from worldly treasures turned,
Seeking those beyond the sky.
