May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
That none deserve eternal bliss I know;Unmerited the grace in mercy given:
But, none shall sink to everlasting woe, That have not well deserved the wrath of Heaven.
And, oh! there lives within my heart A hope, long nursed by me;(And should its cheering ray depart, How dark my soul would be!)
That as in Adam all have died, In Christ shall all men live;And ever round his throne abide, Eternal praise to give.
That even the wicked shall at last Be fitted for the skies;And when their dreadful doom is past, To life and light arise.
I ask not, how remote the day, Nor what the sinners' woe, Before their dross is purged away;Enough for me to know--
That when the clip of wrath is drained, The metal purified, They'll cling to what they once disdained, And live by Him that died.
PAST DAYS.
'Tis strange to think there WAS a time When mirth was not an empty name, When laughter really cheered the heart, And frequent smiles unbidden came, And tears of grief would only flow In sympathy for others' woe;When speech expressed the inward thought, And heart to kindred heart was bare, And summer days were far too short For all the pleasures crowded there;And silence, solitude, and rest, Now welcome to the weary breast--
Were all unprized, uncourted then--
And all the joy one spirit showed, The other deeply felt again;And friendship like a river flowed, Constant and strong its silent course, For nought withstood its gentle force:
When night, the holy time of peace, Was dreaded as the parting hour;When speech and mirth at once must cease, And silence must resume her power;Though ever free from pains and woes, She only brought us calm repose.
And when the blessed dawn again Brought daylight to the blushing skies, We woke, and not RELUCTANT then, To joyless LABOUR did we rise;But full of hope, and glad and gay, We welcomed the returning day.
THE CONSOLATION.
Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan;There IS a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast;There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past.