University of Virginia Library

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ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMAS WALLER, IN HIS THIRTIETH YEAR, MAY 11, 1781.

PART I.

The' eternal mind at last is known,
The will omnipotent obey'd,
The Father hath call'd home His son,
And number'd with the' immortal dead!
Redeem'd from earth, the' unspotted youth
Hath join'd the virgin-choir above,
And sees unveil'd the God of truth,
And triumphs in his Saviour's love.

Not of the world, while here he lived,
A stranger to its hopes and fears,
With reverence he rejoiced and grieved,
Resign'd throughout his thirty years:
From vice and every great offence
By grace miraculous secured,
He kept his childish innocence,
And faithful unto death endured.

A daily death through life he died,
In weakness, weariness, and pain,
By many a sharp affliction tried,
His faith did every cross sustain:
What but the' Invisible display'd
Could bear him through the fiery test,
While still he look'd to God for aid,
And God in all his ways confess'd?

So modest, diffident, and meek,
So small and mean in his own eyes,
Did not his life and actions speak
An humble soul, without disguise?

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Let others of their virtue tell,
Their knowledge, or superior grace,
His good he studied to conceal,
And only sought his Maker's praise.

Religion undefiled and true
In works of charity is shown:
'Twas thus his loving heart we knew,
Who made the sufferer's griefs his own;
So swift to succour the distress'd,
So wise and tender to reprove,
He clasp'd a sister to his breast
With more than a fraternal love.

His soul in pure affection flow'd
To all by nature's ties endear'd;
Freely he paid the debt he owed,
The friend in every act appear'd;
The warmth of piety unfeign'd,
The flame of love unquenchable,
That in his grateful bosom reign'd,
Let an afflicted parent tell.

For her a suffering life he lived,
For her a daily death he died,
With all her pains and sorrows grieved,
On all her crosses crucified;
Willing for her on earth to stay,
And want his place above prepared,—
But, call'd at last, he drops his clay,
And mounts, and gains a full reward.

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PART II.—THE MOTHER'S.

Still let me his remembrance bless,
Still on his dearest image dwell,
Indulge my sorrow's soft excess,
And weep o'er one I loved so well!
Flow fast, and never cease to flow,
Those streams of unforbidden tears,
Till He who shares His creature's woe,
The Comforter in death appears.

He knows the texture of my heart,
Remembers that I am but dust,
So loath, alas, with that to part
Which nature loves and prizes most!
Partner of all my good and ill,
My friend, my bosom friend, he was,—
In anguish exquisite I feel,
I feel the' unutterable loss!

Yet for myself, not him, I grieve,
By Mercy's sudden stroke removed
Beyond the reach of pain to live,
Safe in the arms of his Beloved:
He looks with pity from the skies,—
His happiness my grief suspends,
Crown'd with the life that never dies,
Possess'd of joy that never ends.

Contemplating his bless'd estate,
I hasten to my endless home,
And lighter feel the' afflictive weight
Which sinks my flesh into the tomb:

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The sense of his transcendent bliss
With comfort soothes this aching breast,
Commands these storms of grief to cease,
And lulls my sorrowing soul to rest.

Not without hope henceforth I mourn;
(Since Thou, my God, wouldst have it so;)
He never shall to me return,
But I ere long to him shall go;
Thou wilt cut short my mourning days,
Thou wilt my longing soul prepare,
To see with him Thy heavenly face,
And grasp my son triumphant there!