Lines, on the Death of Bishop N. K. Whitney

A mighty man, a man of worth, A father and a friend, Has left the narrow sphere of earth, His upward course to wend.

Firm as the hills—he was a stay, A bulwark and a shield— Like a strong pillar, mov'd away To Zion's broader field.

From understanding's deepest wells Unmeasur'd draughts he drew— The light, that with Jehovah dwells, Inspir'd his judgment too.

With dignity he fill'd the sphere Allotted him below— His presence seem'd an impulse here To wisdom's genial flow.

But now his noble form must lie And slumber in the dust; While he with honor joins the high Assemblies of the just.

With fondly cherish'd memory His name will be belov'd, While virtue and integrity Are by the Saints approv'd.

The stroke is with a heavy rod— But while our hearts deplore His loss, we'll own the hand of God, That God whom we adore.