網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

Cheer'd by this hope, with patient mind,
I'll wait Heaven's high decree,
Till the appointed period come,

When death shall set me free.

THE OLD MAN'S FUNERAL.

I saw an aged man upon his bier :

His hair was thin and white, and on his brow A record of the cares of many a year;—

Cares that were ended and forgotten now. And there was sadness round, and faces bow'd, And women's tears fell fast, and children wail'd aloud.

Then rose another hoary man, and said,

[ocr errors]

In faltering accents, to that weeping train,

Why mourn ye that our aged friend is dead?

Ye are not sad to see the gathered grain,

Nor when their mellow fruit the orchards cast, Nor when the yellow woods shake down the ripen'd

mast.

"Ye sigh not when the sun, his course fulfill'd,

His glorious course, rejoicing earth and sky,— In the soft evening, when the winds are still'd, Sinks where the islands of refreshment lie, And leaves the smile of his departure, spread O'er the warm-color'd heaven and ruddy mountain head.

"Why weep ye then for him, who, having run

The bound of man's appointed years, at last,

Life's blessings all enjoy'd, life's labors done,
Serenely to his final rest has pass'd?

While the soft memory of his virtues yet Lingers, like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set. "His youth was innocent; his riper age

Mark'd with some acts of goodness every day; And, watch'd by eyes that loved him, calm and sage Faded his late-declining years away.

Cheerful he gave his being up, and went

To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent.

"That life was happy; every day, he gave
Thanks for the fair existence that was his;
For a sick fancy made him not her slave,

To mock him with her phantom miseries.
No chronic tortures rack'd his aged limb,
For luxury and sloth had nourish'd none for him.

"And I am glad that he has lived thus long,
And glad that he has gone to his reward;
Nor deem that kindly nature did him wrong,
Softly to disengage the vital cord.

When his weak hand grew palsied, and his eye Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to die."

A chronic disease is one of long duration.

MIDNIGHT MEDITATION.

WHEN restless on my bed I lie,

Still courting sleep, which still will fly,,
Then shall reflection's brighter power
Illume the lone and midnight hour.

If hush'd the breeze, and calm the tide,
Soft will the stream of memory glide,
And all the past, a gentle train,
Waked by remembrance, live again.

Perhaps that anxious friend I trace,
Beloved till life's last throb shall cease,
Whose voice first taught a Savior's worth,
A future bliss unknown on earth.

His faithful counsel, tender care,
Unwearied love, and humble prayer ;—
O these still claim the grateful tear,
And all my drooping courage cheer.

If loud the wind, the tempest high,
And darkness wraps the sullen sky,
I muse on life's tempestuous sea,
And sigh, O Lord, to come to thee.

Toss'd on the deep and swelling wave,
O mark my trembling soul and save;
Give to my view that harbor near,
Where thou wilt chase each grief and fear.

SUNDAY EVENING.

How shall I praise thee, Lord of light?
How shall I all thy love declare?
The earth is veil'd in shades of night;

But heaven is open to my prayer ;—
That heaven, so bright with stars and suns;
That glorious heaven which knows no bound;
Where the full tide of being runs,

And life and beauty glow around.
From thence, thy seat of light divine,
Circled by thousand streams of bliss,
Which calmly flow and brightly shine,-
Say, to a world so mean as this,
Canst thou direct thy pitying eye?

How shall my thoughts expression find,

All lost in thy immensity!

How shall I seek, thou infinite Mind, Thy holy presence, God sublime!

Whose power and wisdom, love and grace,

Are greater than the round of time,
And wider than the bounds of space!

Gently the shades of night descend;
Thy temple, Lord, is calm and still;
A thousand lamps of ether blend,
A thousand fires that temple fill,
To honor thee. 'Tis bright and fair,
As if the very heavens, impress'd
With thy pure image smiling there,

In all their loveliest robes were dress'd.

Yet thou canst turn thy friendly eye
From that immeasurable throne;
Thou, smiling on humanity,

Dost claim earth's children for thy own,
And gently, kindly, lead them through
Life's varied scenes of joy and gloom,
Till evening's pale and pearly dew
Tips the green sod that decks their tomb.

THE EVENING CLOUD.

A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun,
A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow,
Long had I watch'd the glory moving on,
O'er the still radiance of the lake below:
Tranquil its spirit seem'd, and floated slow,
E'en in its very motion there was rest,
While every breath of eve that chanced to blow
Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west.
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul,

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, And by the breath of mercy made to roll

Right onward to the golden gates of heaven; Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies,

And tells to man his glorious destinies.

« 上一頁繼續 »