Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/27

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of Jesse!—let me go, Why should princely honours stay me?— Where the streams of Gilead flow, Where the light first met mine eye, Thither would I turn and die:— Where my parent's ashes lie, King of Israel!—bid them lay me.

Bury me near my sire revered, Whose feet in righteous paths so firmly trod, Who early taught my soul with awe To heed the Prophets and the Law, And to my infant heart appeared Majestic as a God:— Oh! when his sacred dust The cerements of the tomb shall burst, Might I be worthy at his feet to rise, To yonder blissful skies, Where angel-hosts resplendent shine, Jehovah!—Lord of Hosts, the glory shall be thine.

Cold age upon my breast Hath shed a frost like death, The wine-cup hath no zest, The rose no fragrant breath,