61. NO SORROW IN DEATH.As now, methinks, my fated hour draws nigh,With all its scenes before my vision clear,Why must I take my flight without a tearTo dim the lustre of my heav'n-lift eye?Why leave I sweetest joys without a sigh,As though to my blest soul not rich and dear?Is all my love to lov'd ones insincere,That I am calm while other spirits cry?Oh no! I love them; but love others more—Our commonSavior, victim on the tree—Their Mother and their Sister gone beforeTo heav'n, there ready now to welcome me.Harvests of glorious Good about to reap,—Dying to enterLife,—how can I weep?
61. NO SORROW IN DEATH.
As now, methinks, my fated hour draws nigh,With all its scenes before my vision clear,Why must I take my flight without a tearTo dim the lustre of my heav'n-lift eye?Why leave I sweetest joys without a sigh,As though to my blest soul not rich and dear?Is all my love to lov'd ones insincere,That I am calm while other spirits cry?Oh no! I love them; but love others more—Our commonSavior, victim on the tree—Their Mother and their Sister gone beforeTo heav'n, there ready now to welcome me.Harvests of glorious Good about to reap,—Dying to enterLife,—how can I weep?
As now, methinks, my fated hour draws nigh,
With all its scenes before my vision clear,
Why must I take my flight without a tear
To dim the lustre of my heav'n-lift eye?
Why leave I sweetest joys without a sigh,
As though to my blest soul not rich and dear?
Is all my love to lov'd ones insincere,
That I am calm while other spirits cry?
Oh no! I love them; but love others more—
Our commonSavior, victim on the tree—
Their Mother and their Sister gone before
To heav'n, there ready now to welcome me.
Harvests of glorious Good about to reap,—
Dying to enterLife,—how can I weep?