The bard of the dales or poems and miscellaneous pieces; with a life of the author, written by himself. By John Castillo |
 |
LINES TO AN AFFLICTED FEMALE
|
|
 | The bard of the dales |  |
242
LINES TO AN AFFLICTED FEMALE
WHO HAD LOST FATHER AND MOTHER IN THE CHOLERA.
Child of affliction! wipe that trembling tear
Which round thy clear blue eye-ball is revolving:
What though thou hast a friend or parent dear,
Deep in the dust; to ashes fast dissolving!
Thou hast a friend who wept, and loves thee still,
Oppose not then, but strive for to obey his will.
Which round thy clear blue eye-ball is revolving:
What though thou hast a friend or parent dear,
Deep in the dust; to ashes fast dissolving!
Thou hast a friend who wept, and loves thee still,
Oppose not then, but strive for to obey his will.
243
Cease then belov'd! to murmer and repine,
Though nature's chords I know are strong and binding,—
For what their fate is now, may soon be thine!
Let this thy soul be constantly reminding:—
This friend can take away affliction's dart,
And fill with joy and gladness this thy throbbing heart!
Though nature's chords I know are strong and binding,—
For what their fate is now, may soon be thine!
Let this thy soul be constantly reminding:—
This friend can take away affliction's dart,
And fill with joy and gladness this thy throbbing heart!
For He it is alone, and only He
To whom thou ought to make thy supplication,—
Who groan'd, and bled, and died on Calvary,
To crown thee with the joys of his salvation!
Then fly to him and make no more to do,
Bow to his cross and yoke—in meek submission bow.
To whom thou ought to make thy supplication,—
Who groan'd, and bled, and died on Calvary,
To crown thee with the joys of his salvation!
Then fly to him and make no more to do,
Bow to his cross and yoke—in meek submission bow.
The dead no more can of thy griefs partake,
Quit then all hopes and conversation carnal,
Confess thy sin, to Righteousness awake,
And grasp by Faith in Christ, the prize Eternal!
Then shalt thou rise, afflicted thus and tried,
Like gold that's in the furnace seven-times purified!
Quit then all hopes and conversation carnal,
Confess thy sin, to Righteousness awake,
And grasp by Faith in Christ, the prize Eternal!
Then shalt thou rise, afflicted thus and tried,
Like gold that's in the furnace seven-times purified!
| The bard of the dales | |