University of Virginia Library

THE HAND OF DEATH INVISIBLE.

What hand is this that leads me on?
Shall I refuse to go—
To my eternal destiny,
Of happiness or woe?
Invisible it does appear,
Unseen by mortal eye,
I cannot turn to right nor left,
Nor can I from it fly.
'Tis nature's voice that speaks within,
That skakes this mortal frame,
'Tis justice making her demand,
And death presents her claim.
This hand will ever lead me on
From childhood to the grave—
Will break the chain that holds me fast,
Emancipate the slave.
Therefore my thoughts should upward tend,
To realms of bliss above,
Where heavenly hosts beyond the clouds
Will greet my soul in love.