Zinzendorff and Other Poems/Voice from the Grave of a Sunday-school Teacher

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

VOICE FROM THE GRAVE OF A SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHER.

Yes, this is holy ground,
    Lay me to slumber here,
The cherish'd thoughts of early days,
    Have made this spot most dear,—
Fast by the hallow'd church
    Where first I learned to pray
In faith, and penitence and peace,—
    Make ye my bed of clay.

Though life hath been to me
    A scene of joy and love,
And sweet affections round my heart
    Unchanging garlands wove,
Though knowledge in its power
    At studious midnight came,
Enkindling in my raptur'd mind,
    A bright, unwavering flame;

Yet dearer far than all,
    Was Heaven's celestial lore:
Then come, belov'd and youthful train,
    Who hear my voice no more,
Come, sing the hymn I taught,
    Here, by my lowly bed,
And with your Sabbath-lessons blend
    Sweet memory of the dead.