 | Poetry for children |  |
Funeral Hymn for a Sunday School Scholar.
As crushed by sudden storms, the rose
Sinks on the garden's breast,
Down to the grave our brother goes
In earth's cold arms to rest.
Sinks on the garden's breast,
Down to the grave our brother goes
In earth's cold arms to rest.
No more with us, his tuneful voice
The hymn of praise shall swell,
No more his cheerful heart rejoice
To hear the Sabbath-bell.
The hymn of praise shall swell,
No more his cheerful heart rejoice
To hear the Sabbath-bell.
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Yet if in yon unclouded sphere,
Amid a blessed throng,
He warbles to his Savior's ear
The everlasting song,—
Amid a blessed throng,
He warbles to his Savior's ear
The everlasting song,—
No more we'll mourn our buried friend,
But lift the ardent prayer,
And every wish and effort bend
To rise and join him there.
But lift the ardent prayer,
And every wish and effort bend
To rise and join him there.
| Poetry for children | |