BAND of the beautiful-who bow
About Jehovah's throne,
My spirit comes to join ye now,
Ye will not me disown.
Come with your clustering wings around,
And shadow in my head;
And hallow this devoted ground,
Ye dim and sainted dead!
Oh! by our ties of time and earth,
And by the love ye bore
In years before your heavenly birth,
Or the golden crowns ye wore; Bend round my scathed and bleeding path,
And whisper to my soul,
That God will not remember wrath,
But dash this bitter bowl.
That mercy like a sunbeam yet
Shall struggle through your shrouds, And the day still have a glorious set, Though early veil'd in clouds;
That hope shall spring up with the flowers
In silence round your tomb,
Peace blend with all our coming hours,
And all your path illume!
O for your voices! let me hear
Your music come again,
Like harpings on my opening ear,—
Nor let me list in vain!
Pour your immortal melody
Around the pilgrim's heart,
And lift his footsteps on his way,
And a voice to him impart !
The earth has faded. I am left
An exile mid its way-
Hopeless of joy-forlorn-bereft,
To tread its cold decay;
I feel the rush of other years
Come on me like a tide-
But ah! the story of my tears-
Ye loved me!—and ye died!
Oh could I calmly have lain down,
And droop'd, and died for ye;
Or if ye must-must still have flown,-
Joined in your agony;
How joyous should I then have gone
Forth from your house of clay
To greet the everlasting morn
In your bright company!
Whose lot so deeply desolate
As his, who left behind,
Sees nothing here that bids him wait
Amid life's storm and wind?
Vain! vain!-earth's star of hope is set,
Oh, to the realms where they have met,
Just Jesus, bear me in!
FAREWELL OF THE SOUL TO THE BODY.
COMPANION dear! the hour draws nigh,
The sentence speeds,—to die, to die.
So long in mystic union held,
So close with close embrace compell'd,
How canst thou bear the dread decree
That strikes thy clasping nerves from me?
To him who on this mortal shore,
The same encircling vestment wore;
To Him I look, to Him I bend,
To Him thy shuddering frame commend.
If I have ever caused thee pain,
The throbbing breast, the burning brain,
With cares and vigils turn'd thee pale,
And scorn'd thee when thy strength did fail,-
Forgive!-Forgive!-thy task doth cease,
Friend!-Lover!-let us part in peace.
That thou didst sometimes check my force,
Or, trifling, stay mine upward course,
Or lure from Heaven my wandering trust,
Or bow my drooping wing to dust,-
I blame thee not, the strife is done,
I know thou wert the weaker one,
The vase of earth, the trembling clod,
Constrain'd to hold the breath of God.
Well hast thou in my service wrought,
Thy brow hath mirror'd forth my thought,
To wear my smile thy lip hath glow'd,
Thy tear to speak my sorrows flow'd;
Thine ear hath borne me rich supplies
Of sweetly varied melodies;
Thy hands my prompted deeds have done,
Thy feet upon mine errands run,—
Yes, thou hast mark'd my bidding well,
Faithful and true! farewell, farewell.
Go to thy rest. A quiet bed
Meek mother earth with flowers shall spread,
Where I no more thy sleep may break
With fever'd dream, nor rudely wake
For thou art faint, and chill, and cold,
And long thy gasp and groan of pain
Have bound me pitying in thy chain,
Tho' angels urge me hence to soar,
Where I shall share thy ills no more.
Yet we shall meet. To sooth thy pain,
Remember, we shall meet again.
Quell with this hope the victor's sting,
And keep it as a signet-ring,
When the dire worm shall pierce thy breast,
And naught but ashes mark thy rest,
When stars shall fall, and skies grow dark,
And proud worms quench their glow-warm
spark,
Keep thou that hope to light thy gloom,
Till the last trumpet rends the tomb.
Then shalt thou glorious rise, and fair,
Nor spot, nor stain, nor wrinkle bear,
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