A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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The Grave no Terror to the Virtuous.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
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The Grave no Terror to the Virtuous.
There is no terror in the grave
For him who, in its gloominess,
Perceives Thy hand, outstretched to save,
Thy welcoming smile that waits to bless;
For him who knows and feels that he
Is born for immortality;
For him who, in its gloominess,
Perceives Thy hand, outstretched to save,
Thy welcoming smile that waits to bless;
For him who knows and feels that he
Is born for immortality;
And, keeping steadfast in his view,
That bright, sublime, and awful goal,
Moves all life's course serenely through,
With humble heart and grateful soul;
And gathers from vicissitude
Virtue and strength, and joy and good.
That bright, sublime, and awful goal,
Moves all life's course serenely through,
With humble heart and grateful soul;
And gathers from vicissitude
Virtue and strength, and joy and good.
The grave to him is but the door
Where angels wait and say, “All hail!
Welcome where grief afflicts no more:
Come! thou hast passed life's tearful vale;
Now enter on eternity,
For we are sent to welcome thee.”
Where angels wait and say, “All hail!
Welcome where grief afflicts no more:
Come! thou hast passed life's tearful vale;
Now enter on eternity,
For we are sent to welcome thee.”
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |