161. This simple stone shall bear a simple line;- 162. If the actions of a good man can endear his memory, this stone will be often visited. 163. Untaught with false and flattering rhymes to dwell On human praise, this stone shall simply tell, 164. The godly man has every thing to hope; 165. In widowhood she passed through the dark and troubled pathways of her pilgrimage, and sickness and sorrow were her companions: but her eye was fixed on the Star of Bethlehem; and its rays beamed brightly around her in life, and gilded the valley of the shadow of death. 166. 'Twas mercy eas'd my troubled heart, Through all my joys and troubles past On earth I prais'd thee, O my God, And now, in realms of light and love, 167. My Saviour call'd me, and, without a groan, I gave the spirit grace had made his own. 168. Whate'er be thine honours, thy hope, and thy health, Thy knowledge, thy wisdom, thy wit, and thy wealth; Ere long o'er thine ashes the green grass shall wave: Ah, well mayst thou ponder, for I am the grave! Thou canst not escape me: the aged and young, The wise and the foolish, the feeble and strong, The bold and the coward, the freeman and slave, All, all are my victims, for I am the grave! Come, take up thy cross, and sincerely begin Thy Saviour alone from destruction can save; 169. Alas! how little power to man is given Weaken'd and wasted by the tempest rude, 170. O! they were ever gentle found, Like sunlit clouds they mov'd around, And bless'd our wondering sight. But in the morning of their day We saw a storm arise; Like sunlit clouds they pass'd away, And mingled with the skies. 171. He had long felt that earth was not his rest, nor earthly objects his best portion. 172. Seek now, that Christ thy guilty soul may save: For there is no repentance in the grave. 173. Pilgrim to a world of gladness, Though thou suffer cold and hunger, Bear thy griefs a little longer; Death is but a dreamless slumber; Onward, pilgrim-onward go.. 174. Our floweret was transplanted by an angel: the winged messenger of the Almighty loosened it from the soil wherein it grew, gently shook away the mould that clung around it, bore it to the regions of immortality, and planted it in the paradise of God. 175. Sad and heavily wav'd his pall, And mournful to us was his early fall; Our salt tears fell, and our sighs we gave, And here he reclines in his dusty bed, Till the blast of the trumpet shall bid him arise, And angels shall bear him away to the skies. 176. Here lies his calm, unruffled brow: His fervent breast is lifeless now: In love and zeal his course he trod The hallow'd messenger of God: The soul from error and from sin. |