Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/121

120 Come with the gospel's balm, and like the dew Of Hermon, to the fainting lily—cheer The sufferer's spirit. When the brow is blanched, And the cold, quivering lip doth feebly spurn Time's last poor water-drop—then be thou near; Yea, when the dull ear to affection's tone No longer vibrates, lift thy fervent prayer And to the waiting angels' outspread wing, And to the Everlasting Shepherd's arms, Commend the parting soul. When the pale clay That love hath worshipped, to the open grave In funeral vestments cometh, stand thou there, And by the might of thine ascended Lord Adjure the pit to render back its trust A glorious body when the archangel's trump Heralds eternity. So guide thy flock Faithful in all their need, whether their path By crystal streams shall wind, with flowers besprent, Or sad through withering pastures, where the vine Yieldeth no fruit, and winter's stormy wrath Doth desolate the fold, so guide them still, And girded by their blessings and their prayers, Go on in priestly sanctity to God.