Classic Poem

As fades the light of closing day,
As earth's fair flowers shut at even,—
So pass they from our paths away
Who led our infant feet to heaven.

The seed of living truth they sowed
Shall in a genial harvest rise,
And children gathered home to God
Be their bright honor in the skies.

Oh, happy they whose weekly toil
Prepares fresh gems in heaven to shine;
Such wealth no worldly ill can spoil,
Nor make its priceless worth decline.

Oh, happy they who, early taught
To give their hearts, O Lord, to Thee,
Bind budding life and opening thought
To life's great end,—eternity.

When earth and years and life are passed,
And Heaven shall yield its long reward,
Gather our little flock at last
To be forever with the Lord.