Classic Poem

And will Cleander's sympathizing heart
Indulge once more my sorrow's plaintive strain?
Dictated by a grief devoid of art,
And vented only, as a change of pain.
Yes, he will hear and kindly lend the aid,
Of sacred friendship to assuage my woe;
For he has learn'd the talent to persuade,
While truths divine in gentle accents flow.
When from the sacred desk I feel their force,
My soul mounts up above this earthly clod,
I feast upon Religion's rich resource,
And fix my eye upon the bright abode,
Where pain and anguish never enter in —
Where friends and lovers meet to part no more —
Where pious souls redeem'd from death and sin,
" Quaff immortality and joys secure. "
Oh may sweet peace thro' life your steps pursue,
And guided daily by the gospel's ray,
The fruit of all your ardent labour view.
To cheer your spirit in the heavenly way —
Then with Cleora gain the happy coast,
And neither mourn like me the other's fate.
But crown'd with age, in joy and triumph lost,
Together enter to the blissful seat.