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Occasional verse, moral and sacred

Published for the instruction and amusement of the Candidly Serious and Religious [by Edward Perronet]

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THE TRUE DYING SWAN, OR THE REAL CHRISTIAN


213

THE TRUE DYING SWAN, OR THE REAL CHRISTIAN

Returning to the Celestial Zion with Songs of everlasting Deliverance!—Isaiah xxxv. 10.

I

'Twas on the banks of Jordan's tide,
The close of Life's short day,
A dying Saint melodious tried
To chace her cares away.

II

But though she oft had tun'd her throat,
And oft her cup ran o'er:
Yet now she sang far sweeter note
Than e'er she sang before.

III

“Farewell (she cried) each idol lay,
Ye tinsell'd toys adieu;
Ye have no charms to tempt my stay,
And I have none for you.

IV

Farewell, with these, each worrying pain,
With each corroding care;
Each mortal loss and mortal gain,
Each childish hope or fear.

214

V

Farewell, sad Grief and sore Disease,
The fruit of inbred sin;
I can no more repent of these,
When I am enter'd in.

VI

Farewell all seasons and all times,
Farewell the change of this,
With all the follies and the crimes
That fools account their bliss!

VII

Farewell Contention's ceaseless jars,
Foreign, or home-bred feud;
The tyrant's or the bigot's wars,
That drench the world with blood.

VIII

Farewell Ambition's furious strife,
With Avarice' lust of gain;
The pride of dress, the pride of life,
Religion's rust and bane.

IX

Farewell the Tempter's baleful pow'r,
With every fiery dart;
And farewell too these clouds that lour,
And watch to cloud my heart.

X

Farewell all sorrow and all shame,
And thou, O Sting of Death!
With thine, O Grave! whose dreary name
Alarms at every breath.

215

XI

Farewell thou bright imperial Sun,
Whose rising gilds the morn;
And thou too, fair refulgent Moon,
Whose beams the night adorn.

XII

Farewell, ye constellated Gems,
Ye Solar Stars farewell;
I go—where uncreated beams
Your brightest flames excel.

XIII

Farewell, ye friends, that silent weep,
And with your tears bedew
This dying corse—'tis but a sleep,
And then I wake anew!

XIV

With you no more must I converse,
Nor tread this dreary road;
See there the Prophet's flaming hearse,
That bears me to my God!

XV

Cease then, ye kind companions, cease,
Nor fond indulge your woe;
It is my Father's pleasure this,
And I with pleasure go.

XVI

Be you as willing to submit,
As now ye are to mourn;
And ye, ere long, shall hear him greet
Your rising and return.

216

XVII

In fine then, Farewell all that's here,
And all my tongue could tell;
However lov'd, however dear,
However good—Farewell!”

XVIII

Thus Heaven's fair Swan, the Christian, sings,
In sight of joys to come;
While the Great Angel spreads his wings,
And wafts his Cygnets home!