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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Life in Death.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
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Life in Death.
Dying is but a second birth,
In which the darksome coil of earth
Is shuffled off by mortal men—
And the freed spirit lives again.
In which the darksome coil of earth
Is shuffled off by mortal men—
And the freed spirit lives again.
The damp, uncomfortable tomb
Is only nature's second womb,
Where man in embryo sleeps, till born
A new existence to adorn.
Is only nature's second womb,
Where man in embryo sleeps, till born
A new existence to adorn.
To die in faith, is to begin
A journey freed from care and sin;
'Tis the first step to bliss—a bliss
Unthought of in a world like this.
A journey freed from care and sin;
'Tis the first step to bliss—a bliss
Unthought of in a world like this.
To die in hope, is to receive
The brightest prize that Heaven can give;
To enter on a scene of joy
That time can damp not nor destroy.
The brightest prize that Heaven can give;
To enter on a scene of joy
That time can damp not nor destroy.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |