Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/22

22  Were counted and resign'd? that eloquence So fondly urging those whose hearts were full Of sublunary happiness, to seek A better portion? Whence that voice of joy, Which from the marble lip in life's last strife Burst forth, to hail her everlasting home? —Cold reasoners! be convinced. And when ye stand Where that fair brow and those unfrosted locks Return to dust,—where the young sleeper waits The resurrection morn,—Oh! lift the heart In praise to Him, who gave the victory.

 

Oh! could the kind inquirer gaze Upon thy brow with gladness fraught, Its smile, like inspiration's rays, Would give the answer to his thought.—

And could he see thy sportive grace Soft blending with submission due,— Or note thy bosom's tenderness To every just emotion true;—

Or when some new idea glows, On the pure altar of the mind, Observe the exulting tear that flows In silent ecstacy refined;— 