Classic Poem

The cares of mortal life, how vain!
How empty every joy!
While grief, and weariness, and pain
The fainting mind employ.

But O, that nobler life on high,
To which my hopes aspire!
Does it not prompt the frequent sigh,
And wake the warm desire?

When now and then a heavenly ray
Attracts my upward view,
Almost I hail the approach of day,
And bid the world adieu,

Those happy realms of joy and peace
Fain would my heart explore,
Where grief and pain for ever cease,
And I shall sin no more.

No darkness there shall cloud the eyes,
No languor seize the frame;
But ever active vigor rise
To feed the vital slame.

But ah!—a dreary vale between
Extends its awful gloom;
Fear spreads, to hide the distant scene,
The horrors of the tomb.

The thoughts of death's envenom'd dart,
The parting pangs I fear,
Alarm this timorous, fainting heart,
And still it lingers here.

O for the eye of faith divine,
To pierce beyond the grave!
To see that friend, and call him mine,
Whose arm is strong to save!

That friend who left his throne above,
Who met the tyrant's dart,
And (O, amazing power of love!)
Receiv'd it in his heart.

Here fix my soul, for life is here,
Light breaks amid the gloom;
Trust in the Saviour's love, nor fear
The horrors of the tomb.

Jesus, in thee alone I trust,
O tell me I am thine!
I yield this mortal frame to dust,
Eternal life is mine.