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212 FOREST MELODIES.
This hope was thine, Thou blest, departed one! thy soul had cast Its every burthen on that Friend divine,
In fervent trust.
We think of thee As thou wast wont to walk among us here, With heart attuned to the rich melody
Of yon high sphere.
We think of thee, As of a mariner o'er the dark sea's foam; Or, of a trav'ler from a desert way
Arrived at home.
Mary—adieu! How many hopes were bome upon thy bier! Long, long for thee, in bitterness shall flow
Affection's tear.
Yet wherefore mourn, That one so fondly loved has found her rest ? Why should we weep in agony forlorn
For one so blest ?
We 'II meet again; Meet where our sacred ties cannot be riven— Far, far from sorrow, toil, or care, or pain;
We '11 meet in heaven!
IMS. |
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