On the Death of an Infant.
1 As the sweet flower which scents the morn,
But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely seemed the infant's dawn.
Thus swiftly fled its life away.
2 Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death timely came, with friendly care,
The opening bud to heaven conveyed,
And bade it bloom for ever there.
3 It died before its infant soul
Had ever burned with wrong desire, Had ever spurned at Heaven's control, Or ever quenched its sacred fire.
4 It died to sin, it died to care;
But for a moment felt the rod, Then, springing on the viewless air, Spread its light wings, and soared to God.
1 АH! not for thee was woven
That wreath of joy and woe,
That crown of thorns and flowers,
Which all must wear below;
We bend in sadness o'er thee,
Yet feel that thou art blest,
Loved one! so early summoned
To enter into rest.
2 E'en now thy bright young spirit
From earthly life is free;
Now hast thou met that Saviour,
Who smiled on such as thee;
E'en now art thou rejoicing,
Unsullied as thou art,
In the blest vision promised
Unto the pure in heart.
3 Thou Father of our spirits,
We can but look to thee!
Though chastened, not forsaken
Shall we thy children be.
We take the cup of sorrow
As did thy blessed Son;
Teach us to say with Jesus,
"Thy will, not ours, be done.”
1 So fades the lovely blooming flower,
Frail, smiling solace of an hour;
So soon our transient comforts fly,
And pleasure only blooms to die.
2 Is there no kind, no lenient art,
To heal the anguish of the heart?
To ease the heavy load of care,
Which nature must, but cannot, bear?
3 Can reason's dictates be obeyed?
Too weak, alas, her strongest aid!
O, let Religion then be nigh!
Her comforts were not made to die.
4 Her powerful aid supports the soul,
And nature owns her kind control;
While she unfolds the sacred page,
Our fiercest griefs resign their rage.
5 Then gentle Patience smiles on pain,
And dying Hope revives again;
Hope wipes the tear from Sorrow's eye,
And Faith points upward to the sky.
1 FARE thee well, our fondly cherished
Dear, dear blossom, fare thee well;
He who lent thee hath recalled thee,
Back with him and his to dwell.
2 Like a sunbeam, through our dwelling
Shone thy presence, bright and calm ;
Thou didst add a zest to pleasure;
To our sorrows thou wert balm.
3 Yet while mourning, O our lost one!
Come no visions of despair;
Seated on thy tomb, Faith's angel
Saith, thou art not, art not, there.
4 Where, then, art thou? With the Saviour, Blest, for ever blest to be;
'Mid the sinless little children,
Who have heard his "Come to me."
5 Passed the shades of death's dark valley,
Thou art leaning on his breast,
Where the wicked may not enter,
And the weary are at rest.
。 Plead that, in a Father's mercy,
All our sins may be forgiven;
Angel! plead, that thou mayst greet us,
Ransomed, at the gates of heaven.
1 Be thou ready, fellow-mortal,
In thy pilgrimage of life,
Ever ready to uphold thee
In the toil and in the strife.
Let no hope, however pleasant,
Lure thy footsteps from the right;
Nor the sunshine leave thee straying
In the sudden gloom of night.
2 Be thou ready when thy brother
Bows in dark affliction's shade;
Be thou ready when thy sister
Needs thy kindness and thy aid;
Let thine arm sustain and cheer them,
They have claims upon us all,
And thy deeds like morning sunlight
On their weary hearts shall fall.
3 Be thou ready when the erring
List to sin's enchanting strain,
Ready with kind words to woo them
Back to virtue's path again.
Be thou ready, in thy meekness,
To do good to friend and foe,
As thy Father sheddeth freely
Light on all that dwell below.
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