Poems (Hornblower)/Verses (I stood beside a death-bed scene—a mother bent and wept)
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For works with similar titles, see Verses.
VERSES.
I stood beside a death-bed scene—a mother bent and wept,
But deep within her breaking heart a deathless faith she kept;
She gazed upon her little one, so beautiful and still,
And humbly tried to yield him up unto her Maker's will;
She bent and kissed his pallid brow, she joined her hands in prayer,
And then I knew the Christian's hope had surely entered there.
But deep within her breaking heart a deathless faith she kept;
She gazed upon her little one, so beautiful and still,
And humbly tried to yield him up unto her Maker's will;
She bent and kissed his pallid brow, she joined her hands in prayer,
And then I knew the Christian's hope had surely entered there.
I stood beside a bridal band, and all was gay and bright,
In opening youth and radiant bloom, that bride was a fair sight:
She gave her hand, she gave her trust, she gave her sacred vow,
But not a change of feeling crossed the calmness of her brow:
Yet she had broke another's hope, and left the true and tried,
And made herself a sacrifice to splendor and to pride.
In opening youth and radiant bloom, that bride was a fair sight:
She gave her hand, she gave her trust, she gave her sacred vow,
But not a change of feeling crossed the calmness of her brow:
Yet she had broke another's hope, and left the true and tried,
And made herself a sacrifice to splendor and to pride.
I saw a lone and wretched hut, and it looked cold and poor,
An aged and a helpless form sat shivering at the door;
Her fire was low, her comforts few, I looked with pity there,
And thought to see a face cast down with sadness and despair;
Her eye was bright, her smile was kind, and as she worked she sung,
And cheered herself with hymns of praise, as slow she crept along.
An aged and a helpless form sat shivering at the door;
Her fire was low, her comforts few, I looked with pity there,
And thought to see a face cast down with sadness and despair;
Her eye was bright, her smile was kind, and as she worked she sung,
And cheered herself with hymns of praise, as slow she crept along.
And then I felt that life was not what it might seem to lie:
That faith and patience are sweet fruits, that spring from misery;
And that the Christian's glorious hope can brighten every scene,
And, in the dark and anguished hour,shed gleams of joy between.
The mother had a hope in death—the lonely one was blest,
But the bride, in all her splendor, had not found the Christian's rest.
That faith and patience are sweet fruits, that spring from misery;
And that the Christian's glorious hope can brighten every scene,
And, in the dark and anguished hour,shed gleams of joy between.
The mother had a hope in death—the lonely one was blest,
But the bride, in all her splendor, had not found the Christian's rest.