Poems on various subjects, religious and moral | ||
On the DEATH of a YOUNG GENTLEMAN.
WHO taught the conflict with the power's of night,
To vanquish Satan in the fields of fight?
Who strung thy feeble arms with might unknown,
How great thy conquest, and how bright thy crown!
War with each princedom, throne, and pow'r is o'er,
The scene is ended to return no more.
O could my muse thy feat on high behold,
How deck'd with laurel, how enrich'd with gold!
O could she hear what praise thine harp employs,
How sweet thine anthems, how divine thy joys!
What heav'nly grandeur should exalt her strain!
What holy raptures in her numbers reign!
To sooth the troubles of her mind to peace,
To still the tumult of life's tossing seas,
To ease the anguish of the parents heart,
What shall my sympathizing verse impart?
Where is the balm to heal so deep a wound?
Where shall a sov'reign remedy be sound?
Look, gracious Spirit, from thine heavenly bow'r,
And thy full joys into their bosom pour;
The raging tempest of their grief control,
And spread the dawn of glory thro' the soul,
To eye the path the saint, departed, trod,
And trace him to the bosom of his God.
To vanquish Satan in the fields of fight?
Who strung thy feeble arms with might unknown,
How great thy conquest, and how bright thy crown!
22
The scene is ended to return no more.
O could my muse thy feat on high behold,
How deck'd with laurel, how enrich'd with gold!
O could she hear what praise thine harp employs,
How sweet thine anthems, how divine thy joys!
What heav'nly grandeur should exalt her strain!
What holy raptures in her numbers reign!
To sooth the troubles of her mind to peace,
To still the tumult of life's tossing seas,
To ease the anguish of the parents heart,
What shall my sympathizing verse impart?
Where is the balm to heal so deep a wound?
Where shall a sov'reign remedy be sound?
Look, gracious Spirit, from thine heavenly bow'r,
And thy full joys into their bosom pour;
The raging tempest of their grief control,
And spread the dawn of glory thro' the soul,
To eye the path the saint, departed, trod,
And trace him to the bosom of his God.
Poems on various subjects, religious and moral | ||