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Green, now, the grass waves o'er his head, And tall the tomb-weeds grow.
Along life's road no parent's hand
But other hearts, Lord! thou hast warmed
And in the stranger's eye. I mark
The stranger's hand by thee is moved
And better far, the stranger's voice
Thou putt'st a new song in our mouth,
A song of praise and joy,
may we not our lips alone,
To Him who little children took,
And blessing them with looks of love,
To Him, while flowers bloom on the bank,
Or lambs sport on the lea;
To Him let every creature join
BY THE LATE PRINCESS AMELIA,
DAUGHTER OF GEORGE III.
Unthinking, idle, wild, and young,
I laughed, and talked, and danced, and sung,
But when the days of trial came,
When folly's gay pursuits were o'er,
Weep, mourner, for the joys that fade, Like evening lights away;
For hopes that like the stars decayed,
Have left thy mortal clay;
Yet clouds of sorrow will dispart,
And brilliant skies be given,
And though on earth the tear may start, Yet bliss awaits the holy heart
Amid the bowers of heaven,
Where songs of praise are ever sung,
Weep, mourner, for the friends that pass
Into the lonesome grave,
As breezes sweep the withered grass
Yet though thy pleasure may depart,
Written by Lord Byron, a few weeks before his Death, on the blank leaf of a Bible.
Within this awful volume lies
What various hindrances we meet
In coming to a mercy-seat!
Yet who that knows the worth of prayer,
Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw, Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw,
Gives exercise to faith and love,
Brings every blessing from above.
Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer makes the Christian's armour bright; And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
While Moses stood with arms spread wide, Success was found on Israel's side;
But when through weariness they failed,