7
Noon waned apace, young Joy pined and expired,
Gay hope grew sick, and airy Fancy tired;
And, crushed by time's unflinching hand, the maid
Began to languish—wither—droop and fade.
Gay hope grew sick, and airy Fancy tired;
And, crushed by time's unflinching hand, the maid
Began to languish—wither—droop and fade.
Chill evening came and found the roses gone,
The birds all silent,—morning's beauty flown,
And poor Mortality, in pitious plight,
Viewing dismayed the coming shades of night.
Her cheek was blanched—her sparkling eyes grown dim-
Her hair was grey, and faltering every limb;
Friends had departed—all she loved had fled—
Each scene had faded—Hope herself seemed dead;
When, by compassion moved—with pitying eye
Her great creator, bending from on high,
Sent from his throne of grace the soothing aid
Of kind religion—pure angelic maid,
Whose healing balm soon soothed her broken heart,
And Hope reviving reassumed her part,
And, smiling, pointed to that world of day
Where darkness never comes—where light bears sway;
While Faith, unflinching, led the thorny way.
And as the night of life was closing round,
A glittering cross illumed the gloom profound;
While fearful Death, of his sharp sting bereft,—
His terrors gone—his comforts only left—
Stalked forth,—and with his stern attendant, Fate,
Flung wide the portals of life's last dark gate;
And Hope—and Faith—and Charity—and Love,
Bore the lorn maiden to the realms above.
The birds all silent,—morning's beauty flown,
And poor Mortality, in pitious plight,
Viewing dismayed the coming shades of night.
Her cheek was blanched—her sparkling eyes grown dim-
Her hair was grey, and faltering every limb;
Friends had departed—all she loved had fled—
Each scene had faded—Hope herself seemed dead;
When, by compassion moved—with pitying eye
Her great creator, bending from on high,
Sent from his throne of grace the soothing aid
Of kind religion—pure angelic maid,
Whose healing balm soon soothed her broken heart,
And Hope reviving reassumed her part,
And, smiling, pointed to that world of day
Where darkness never comes—where light bears sway;
While Faith, unflinching, led the thorny way.
And as the night of life was closing round,
A glittering cross illumed the gloom profound;
While fearful Death, of his sharp sting bereft,—
His terrors gone—his comforts only left—
Stalked forth,—and with his stern attendant, Fate,
Flung wide the portals of life's last dark gate;
And Hope—and Faith—and Charity—and Love,
Bore the lorn maiden to the realms above.
