Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/101

Rh There was a glancing forth of glorious thought, That scorn'd earth's vanities. I saw thee stand With but a few brief summers o'er thy head, And in the consecrated courts of God Confess thy Saviour's name. And they who mark'd The deep devotion and the high resolve Of that young half-blown bud, did wondering ask What its full bloom must be. But now thy couch Is with thine infant train, where the sad voice Of the poor Ceylon mother tells her child Of all thy prayers and labors. Yes, thy rest Is in the bosom of that fragrant isle Where heathen man with lavish nature strives, To blot the lesson she would teach of God. Thy pensive sisters pause upon thy tomb To catch the spirit that did bear thee through All tribulation, till thy robes were white, To join the angelic train. And so farewell, My childhood's playmate, and my sainted friend, Whose bright example, not without rebuke Admonisheth, that home and ease and wealth And native land, are well exchang'd for Heaven.