28. Affliction dug this grave for me, And Time is digging thine for thee, 29. Reader, to thee it is not given On themes of bliss alone to dwell; But if thy hope on Him relies Who promis'd mansions bright and fair, 30. He labour'd in the fields his bread to gain, He plough'd, he sow'd, he reap'd the yellow grain; And now, by death from future service driven, 31. He adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour by a holy life, and illustrated the power of the Gospel in a happy death. 32. Hark! hark! a cry is gone abroad from every peopled plain, It sweeps along the sounding shore, it murmurs from the main ; From every varied spot of earth where human creatures be, It loudly echoes through the land, and spreads from sea to sea. From palace wall, and humble cot,-from town and village lone,— From every newly-open'd grave, and every churchyard stone, In every language under heaven, a voice repeats the cry, Thy days are number'd, mortal man; and thou art born to die." Whate'er thy state may be, whate'er the paths thy feet have trod, Forsake thy sins, and lowly kneel, and seek the Lord thy God. Prepare thee for the bed of death, though now thy bosom burn; For dust thou art, and suddenly to dust shalt thou return. What though ten thousand flattering tongues conspire to praise thee now, Though glittering stars adorn thy breast, and diadems thy brow ;— Mid all thy dreams of earthly bliss, thou soon shalt hear the cry, Thy days are number'd, mortal man; and thou art doom'd to die. 33. We have followed him through the chequered scenes of his eventful pilgrimage, and have seen how a man of God can live and die. 34. Farewell, my babe; no more I press And if that realm where thou art now 35. O hast thou whisper'd in thine heart, When thousands, younger than thou art, To summon thee to meet thy doom, E'en while thou bendest o'er my tomb, C 36. The name inscribed on this Record of Death will perish in the dust; but it is written also in the Book of Life, where it will endure for ever. 37. Though all thy piety and love Our sorrowing hearts remember well; Yet would we raise our thoughts above, Nor idly on thy virtues dwell. Unhallow'd incense shall not rise, Where Death has triumph'd o'er thy doom; Nor Flattery fling her vanities O'er the pale tenant of the tomb. With heavenly aid we hope and trust To follow where thy steps have trod; And leave thy body in the dust, 38. Doom'd o'er the watery waste to roam, 39. She is gone to the land where the care-worn and weary Enjoy the sweet rapture of sacred repose; She has quitted for ever this wilderness dreary, And bid a long farewell to time and its woes. While on earth she was lov'd, and we deeply deplore her: But, Ah! shall a murmur escape from our breast? Do you ask how she liv'd? She set heaven be fore her. Do you ask how she died? In the faith of the bless'd. 40. When Fear assail'd, Faith bade the phantom flee; Sin bound him fast, but Christ has set him free. 41.. If thou hast never stepp'd aside From Wisdom's ways and Virtue's track; If thou hast met Temptation's tide, And beaten every billow back; Then wilt thou, as thou passest by, |