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And oh! if God so clothes the flowers which bloom
In youth to-day—to-morrow find a tomb,—
Shall He not much more all your sorrows share,
Your wants supply,—for you all good prepare,
Ye faithless hearts, who cannot trust His care?"
In youth to-day—to-morrow find a tomb,—
Shall He not much more all your sorrows share,
Your wants supply,—for you all good prepare,
Ye faithless hearts, who cannot trust His care?"
Such was the lesson, fraught with holy power,
Breathed forth on thee!—and since that long past hour,
Such are the words which o'er thy snowy leaves
In threads of light the hand of Fancy weaves.
Oh! that each heart which marks thy form so fair,
Could rise in faith to Him who placed thee there;
And learn from thee, though all be dark and drear,
To trust His changeless love and ceaseless care.
Breathed forth on thee!—and since that long past hour,
Such are the words which o'er thy snowy leaves
In threads of light the hand of Fancy weaves.
Oh! that each heart which marks thy form so fair,
Could rise in faith to Him who placed thee there;
And learn from thee, though all be dark and drear,
To trust His changeless love and ceaseless care.
E.
August 25, 18334,
