 | A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems |  |
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“OH! HAD I THE WINGS OF A DOVE.”
Oh! had I the wings of a dove!
How soon should they bear me above,
To those regions of light and of love,
Beyond the dark grave's gloomy portal;
Where no sun-light illumines the day,
Those pinions should waft me away,
From this tenement, fashioned of clay,
To a mansion of glory immortal.
How soon should they bear me above,
To those regions of light and of love,
Beyond the dark grave's gloomy portal;
Where no sun-light illumines the day,
Those pinions should waft me away,
From this tenement, fashioned of clay,
To a mansion of glory immortal.
Who has not, in anguish and care,
Often uttered in spirit this prayer,
When the dark clouds of doubt and despair
Around him their shadows were casting?
Nor panted, in visions sublime,
From this cold world of sorrow to climb,
Exchanging the troubles of time
For the transports of joy everlasting?
Often uttered in spirit this prayer,
When the dark clouds of doubt and despair
Around him their shadows were casting?
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From this cold world of sorrow to climb,
Exchanging the troubles of time
For the transports of joy everlasting?
But not on our wishes may wait,
A transition so glorious and great:—
For the joys of that happier estate,
Man must watch—'till the signal be given,
When the trumpet shall sound through the skies,
And spirits redeemed shall arise,
“Through the Lamb of the great sacrifice,”
To sing praise and thanksgiving in heaven!
A transition so glorious and great:—
For the joys of that happier estate,
Man must watch—'till the signal be given,
When the trumpet shall sound through the skies,
And spirits redeemed shall arise,
“Through the Lamb of the great sacrifice,”
To sing praise and thanksgiving in heaven!
| A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems | |