 | The poetical writings of the late Willis Gaylord Clark |  |
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ON THE DEATH OF DR. BEDELL.
He has gone to a mansion of rest,
From a region of sorrow and pain;
To the glorious Land of the Blest,
Where he never can suffer again:
The pangs of affliction and sickness are o'er,
The cloud on his spirit will darken no more!
From a region of sorrow and pain;
To the glorious Land of the Blest,
Where he never can suffer again:
The pangs of affliction and sickness are o'er,
The cloud on his spirit will darken no more!
He has gone, like the life-waking sun,
Descending the radiant sky;
Ere the stars have their shining begun,
And are hid by the day-beams on high;
The night could not rest on the wings of his soul,
Nor the shadows of earth their uprising control.
Descending the radiant sky;
Ere the stars have their shining begun,
And are hid by the day-beams on high;
The night could not rest on the wings of his soul,
Nor the shadows of earth their uprising control.
The watchman is missed from the wall,
Where his warnings so often have rung;
No more the affectionate call,
Or remonstrance, will melt from his tongue;
There is dust on his lip, and the shroud on his breast,
And the deep seal of peace on his eyelid is prest.
Where his warnings so often have rung;
No more the affectionate call,
Or remonstrance, will melt from his tongue;
There is dust on his lip, and the shroud on his breast,
And the deep seal of peace on his eyelid is prest.
How oft, when the sanctified air
Round the altar with music was filled,
Have the words of his eloquent prayer
Gone forth, like rich incense distilled;
Like the breath of Spring roses ascending the skies,
To God, an acceptable sacrifice.
Round the altar with music was filled,
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Gone forth, like rich incense distilled;
Like the breath of Spring roses ascending the skies,
To God, an acceptable sacrifice.
His heart was a fountain of love—
It stirred in the light of his mind.
Whose glory was caught from above,
Where the pearl of great price was enshrined;
He taught the dark spirit to look to its ray,
And to feel its warm glow in life's gloomiest day.
It stirred in the light of his mind.
Whose glory was caught from above,
Where the pearl of great price was enshrined;
He taught the dark spirit to look to its ray,
And to feel its warm glow in life's gloomiest day.
He knew that our pilgrimage here
Was a dream: he remembered as dust
The throngs that assembled to hear,
And bade them in heaven to trust.
And armed with persuasion, and pity, and prayer,
He shunned not the counsel of God to declare.
Was a dream: he remembered as dust
The throngs that assembled to hear,
And bade them in heaven to trust.
And armed with persuasion, and pity, and prayer,
He shunned not the counsel of God to declare.
How oft like the heart-moving Paul,
Did he beckon with wavering hand,
Till silence around him would fall,
Then, echo his Saviour's command;
Till his magical accents the hearer received,
Their soberness treasured, and hearing believed.
Did he beckon with wavering hand,
Till silence around him would fall,
Then, echo his Saviour's command;
Till his magical accents the hearer received,
Their soberness treasured, and hearing believed.
Who mourns that his garland is won,
That the crown on his forehead is bright?
That his trials and labors are done,
That his spirit rejoices in light?
Who weeps that our loss is his infinite gain,
Where Death may not enter, and Sin can not stain?
That the crown on his forehead is bright?
That his trials and labors are done,
That his spirit rejoices in light?
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Where Death may not enter, and Sin can not stain?
He walks in the smile of his God
And looks o'er those realms of the sky,
Where Mortality's foot never trod,
Unseen by Mortality's eye:
Where calm by green pastures, and dwellings of gold,
The waters of life all their splendor unfold.
And looks o'er those realms of the sky,
Where Mortality's foot never trod,
Unseen by Mortality's eye:
Where calm by green pastures, and dwellings of gold,
The waters of life all their splendor unfold.
And he sees in the shadowless air,
That lofty and beautiful tree,
Whose blossoms and fruits blooming fair,
Are spread for the ransomed to see;
He hears the glad harpers that linger beneath,
And feels not the fear of corruption or death.
That lofty and beautiful tree,
Whose blossoms and fruits blooming fair,
Are spread for the ransomed to see;
He hears the glad harpers that linger beneath,
And feels not the fear of corruption or death.
Oh, leave him to rest with his God,
To join in that music benign
Which swells o'er his blessed abode,
Where every sight is divine,
Where flowers immortal with lustre are fed,
From the source of all glory unceasingly shed!
To join in that music benign
Which swells o'er his blessed abode,
Where every sight is divine,
Where flowers immortal with lustre are fed,
From the source of all glory unceasingly shed!
| The poetical writings of the late Willis Gaylord Clark | |