Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/246

 

Grant me this joy, and when my soul Her farewell to the world shall sigh; When unknown seas beneath me roll, And lift their deathful billows high;

Then when my frail and fainting sight, To this receding world is dim, The lustre of my Saviour's light Shall brightly mark my way to Him.

 

YOU say, that life to you has been A mix'd and chequer'd dream, That hours, and days, and years have flown, As rapid as a stream.

You tell me that your youthful prime Like morning shadows past, That every year of fleeting time Grew shorter till the last. 