 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD.
“Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him.”
Jer. xxii. 10.
Oh, weep not for the holy dead
Embosom'd in their God,
But rather that high pathway tread
Their sainted virtues trod:
Embosom'd in their God,
But rather that high pathway tread
Their sainted virtues trod:
Their home is now the tearless clime
Where sins nor sorrows reign,
And all the pure they lost in time
True Hearts embrace again.
Where sins nor sorrows reign,
And all the pure they lost in time
True Hearts embrace again.
The Lord who came our souls to save
Dead Laz'rus did not mourn,
But His sublime compassion gave
To sisters left forlorn.
Dead Laz'rus did not mourn,
But His sublime compassion gave
To sisters left forlorn.
It must be so; for ponder well,
When God's award is given,
Love cannot rescue vice from hell,
Nor pity saints in heaven.
When God's award is given,
Love cannot rescue vice from hell,
Nor pity saints in heaven.
'Tis true, as thoughtful years advance
We muse with sadden'd mind,
When mem'ry throws a tearful glance
On scenes long left behind!
We muse with sadden'd mind,
When mem'ry throws a tearful glance
On scenes long left behind!
Where have they fled, the brave and dear.
The brightest of the throng,
Who gladden'd home's delighted sphere
With sunshine and with song?
The brightest of the throng,
Who gladden'd home's delighted sphere
With sunshine and with song?
'Twere vain to tell us not to weep,
When Mem'ry opes that tomb
Where buried Joys in darkness sleep,
That fill'd young life with bloom.
When Mem'ry opes that tomb
Where buried Joys in darkness sleep,
That fill'd young life with bloom.
For often in some bleak distress
The dead upon us rise,
As though they knew our loneliness,
And echo'd back our sighs.
The dead upon us rise,
As though they knew our loneliness,
And echo'd back our sighs.
'Tis then the heart-dew riseth fast,
And moisten'd eye-beams tell
Our Souls are with the solemn past,
And feel its mighty spell!
And moisten'd eye-beams tell
Our Souls are with the solemn past,
And feel its mighty spell!
And will not gentle Bosoms weep,
To think what pangs we gave
To friends above whose dreamless sleep
Funereal banners wave?—
To think what pangs we gave
To friends above whose dreamless sleep
Funereal banners wave?—
How often might some healing word,
Or tone of kindness spoken,
With love's divinest thrill have stirr'd
A heart that seem'd half broken!
Or tone of kindness spoken,
With love's divinest thrill have stirr'd
A heart that seem'd half broken!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |