Classic Poem

" 'Twere better to lie in a grave than a bed",
Thus poor little Henry his mother addrest;
" The spirit's anxieties then would be fled,
And then would the body be really at rest.
But now, when I'm free from the terrible pain,
My heart feels its bitterness worse than before,
To think that I'm banished from meadow and plain,
And never can sport with my playfellows more".

" Yes, Pain and Privation stern visages wear,
And well", said Mamma, " may my darling appal;
But aye for their presence our hearts to prepare
A mild-looking Maiden attends within call.
She'll soothe every pang, your disquiets allay,
And shew you a damsel all beaming and bright:
For Patience has never gone far on her way
Ere Hope follows fast from the mansions of light.

" Her voice is enchantment: she bids you espy
A glimmer of light on the shadiest bourne:
And when, pointing upward, she looks to the sky,
Her face kindles bright as a midsummer morn.
Yes Patience and Hope have rich blessings in store,
But ere they can enter our couch to attend,
Firm Faith in the Saviour must open the door,
And Faith, if we pray, will the Comforter send.

" Our passport to bliss by the Saviour ensured,
They render us fit in his sight to appear:
His infinite Goodness those Graces procured; —
They bless and support us while sojourning here.
They'll wipe all the tears from my precious one's eyes:
No more for lost pleasures he'll eagerly crave:
But e'en in his bed cherish time as it flies: —
Then may he with comfort look on to the grave."