55. Does the Grave affright thee? 56. Fast bound to earth, the light balloon is bent, With eager haste amid the clouds to rise: Awhile it lingers, till its cords are rent, Then springs triumphantly towards the skies. So did He soar, when the last bolt was hurl'd, All earthly joys and earthly woes to sever; Wing'd o'er the waves of this revolving world, And on the "Rock of Ages" stands for ever. 57. Christian, thy life is register'd on high: 58. It was thought by the world that he died poor; and poor he was, indeed, in worldly riches: but he had, for years, been laying up treasures "where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal." 59. Stranger! this is a Soldier's Grave, He sicken'd and died, for his hour was come, Slowly we march'd, nor utter'd a word; As we gaz'd on the cap, and the glove, and the sword, While he in his coffin was shrouded. In the dark cold grave we laid him low, Nor wasted our time in repining; Three volleys we gave with our muskets, to shew That a soldier's bones were reclining. The prayer was said, and we turn'd away, But we could not forget where our comrade lay, We put up this simple stone to tell That we felt respect and sorrow: Alas! for us all: for to-day we are well, And our Graves may be dug to-morrow. 60. May the sudden bereavement of the estimated individual whose memory this tablet records, be overruled, by the providence of God, for those best purposes for which afflictions are mercifully sent. 61. The fool for length of life is ever crying; 62. The graves around, for many a year, As he now, mouldering, shares the doom So will his body with them rise To share the Judgment in the skies. 63. What but the prospect of eternal life can sup port thee in the pains of temporal death? 64. Disease o'ertook me in my prime: Yet, as the gentle breezes fann'd To break the charm that bound me here; 65. Here an Infant lies asleep: 66. Thou knowest well, Almighty God, above! How closely cling thy creatures in their love, When strong affection every thought controls:Forgive the proud rebellion of our souls. When Thou, whose hand unerring, yet severe, Increasing sickness loud proclaim'd thy will; Oppos'd thy mighty power, and closer press'd E'en when thy voice in thundering accents spoke, And Pain and Death her thread of being broke, Conquer'd, but not resign'd, we bent the knee, And weeping, trembling, gave her up to thee. 67. While my hopes, my desires, and my pleasures were free, I died in my childhood, yet weep not for me; Reserve for thyself all thy sighs and thy tears: He who dies in his youth cannot sin in his years. 68. My parents, while on earth you dwell, And not the Almighty's vengeful rod : D |