fwpm^' i mwm/A f o ■%a3AiNn-3\v^ oe ^.OFCA1IFO% >&Aavaani'^ ^^Aavnaii-^^ IBRARYQ^, ^llIBRARYOr jnvojo^ %oi\mi^^ CALIFOff^ ^OFCA[IFO% aweuniver% vKlOSANCEl% ameuniver% ^Aa3AiNa-3Wv' vvlOSANGElfj> o mw^ '"^omnw^ -^nvmm^ '^^mhmi'^ uwmih .>;lOSANCElfj> mm^ "^aaAiNnauv^ ^^l-LIBRARY(9/ ^ o mmmi^ i»i If; >- \\\[UNIVERy//i ;r% ;r% o ^lOSANCElfx^ %a]AiNn-3UV' '^a]AINfl-3W^ %0JnVD-JO->^^ %OJ11V3JO>^' ,^.QFCAL1F0% ,^0FCAII 4? cnn,. y< VO 4. £r. ^^Aavaani^ ^2c PREl^4CE. The object of the present Volume is to offer to the Public a greater variety of original epitaphs than has hitherto appeared, the want of such variety having generally led to the repetition of com- mon-place and inapplicable inscrip- tions. The sacred Scriptures will ever be the most suitable source of inscriptions for the grave, but the affections of human beings continually call for a more definite ^-y G'?455 IV PREFACE. reference to the departed than a Scriptural quotation can supply. The influence of epitaphs on society is of a salutary kind. A churchyard is a volume whose admonitions are usually sought when the heart is best prepared to receive them ; and he who is softened and impressed by reflections on the dead is not likely to indulge in bitterness and injustice towards the living. The most simple classification of youth, maturity, and age has been adopted in composing the inscriptions, with little re- ference to rank and those distinctions in society, which in this life are so preca- rious, and which death utterly destroys. At the same time, the diversified cha- PRKFACE. lactei olliie and the vtiried circumstances of dissolution have not been disregarded. The epitaphs are thrown together pro- miscuously in the Volume, to impart a variety which may recommend it to the general Reader. As the Churchyard Lyrist is intended to be practically and generally useful, it is adapted to different degrees of in- telligence. Originality and taste, how- ever desirable, affect, comparatively, but a few, while the many are more accessi- ble to the plainer precepts of piety and morality. The considerate will not object to the numerous instances in which the Author has availed himself of the thoughts of other Vi PREFACE. writers : without this indulgence, the diffi- culty of preparing the present publication would have been as much increased, as the interest of the work would have been diminished. A recent publication has, in a degree, supplied the want of original epitaphs, but not so amply as to render the present work unnecessary. The whole of the in- scriptions now offered to the public were written some time before the publication of Doctor Booker made its appearance. CONTENTS. As the oi)itaj)hs are for the most part suitable to the firavestones of different characters, so a general index is unnecessary. The following list contains the numbers of such as are more imme- diately applicable to particular cases. For Pious Characters. S'os. Nos. Nos. Nos. Nos. 4 119 187 297 431 7 126 189 298 443 12 127 192 309 448 W 129 196 313 451 20 131 204 316 453 31 142 206 328 654 33 153 215 335 452 36 156 230 358 ^62 37 161 234 398 472 39 163 246 399 474 40 166 248 409 476 58 167 260 414 488 92 170 264 421 491 104 181 267 423 495 107 185 269 438 For Affliction and Sudden Death. 28 79 148 276 437 45 93 149 311 484 54 96 203 320 485 60 101 219 352 595 64 143 2(53 403 66 144 270 424 Vlll CONTENTS. For Youth and Age. Nos. Nos. Nos. Nos. Nos. 13 72 180 261 364 17 100 182 265 338 34 108 11>3 287 376 4« 118 197 301 452 52 135 213 304 456 Go 171 232 305 465 67 174 249 330 487 68 177 255 336 489 For different Relations and Vocations in Life. 18 117 220 300 418 30 121 223 310 419 38 150 231 324 422 59 165 235 340 432 62 176 241 366 433 82 178 243 381 461 90 179 250 392 464 97 184 272 407 494 116 200 295 Miscellaneous. 410 499 • 23 188 254 395 444 76 202 258 415 447 84 207 29(5 416 458 88 209 263 417 466 98 218 369 420 471 130 227 375 427 480 160 240 377 438 483 162 253 393 442 498 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST, \^ 1. How sweet it is to read, mid earthly woes, Of that bless'd heaven where righteous men re- pose! Alas! the holy Book of truth and grace Speaks, too, of hell, the sinner's dwelling-place. By every power that human breasts can move — By endless wrath and everlasting love — Shun thou that burning gulph, I thee conjure ; Thy Saviour seek, and joy and heaven secure. 2. The Grave can neither withhold the righteous from happiness, nor protect the wicked from unutterable woe. B THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 3. Why call we that a place of gloom, A spot for woe and weeping. Where, peaceful in the silent tomb. Our dearest friends are sleeping? O rather strew fresh flowerets round. Their heavenly hopes relating. Who, slumbering here in holy ground, For golden crowns are waiting. 4. She conducted herself as became a Child of God, giving the clearest evidence that she had not received the grace of God in vain. 5. Nature, when he lost his breath, Weeping cried, "The hand of Death!" Faith, with finger rais'd above, Whisper'd, " 'Tis the hand of Love." 6. Mortal man, what art thou seeking? Wliat is all thy worldly trust? Hark! the deep-ton'd grave is speaking " Earth to earth, and dust to dust!" THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 3 It" thou hast not known ropi'iitaiice, Slave of sin and worldly lust. Oil, how dreadful is the sentence — Earth to earth, and dnst to dust! Christian, if thy heart be hund)le. Heaven is thine amid the just ; Though ten thousand worlds should crund)le Earth to earth, and dust to dust. 7. Sorrow tned him; — Faith sustained him; — Earth has lost, and Heaven has gain'd him. 8. A fellow mortal, beloved and lamented, moul- ders in the dust. We mark not the stone with his praises: but when the grave shall render up its dead, and the secrets of all hearts shall be known, then will it be made manifest whose he is, and whom he has served. 9. The sceptred hand, the anointed head, Must moulder with the silent dead ; For worldly pomp, and kingly power. Are but the pageants of an hour. Where breasts with proud ambition swell. Oh, what a tale is this to tell! If kings the shroud of death must wear. Canst thoii do better than prepare ? THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 10. Though neath this rudely sculptur'd stone. Unconsciously I lie alone ; Though here I moulder, dark and deep, Weep not for me: ivhy shouldst thou weep? The cares that crowd thy earthly lot — Thy griefs — thy tears — I know them not. No dire diseases o'er me creep: — Weep not for me: ivhy shouldst thou weep? Ere long, this mouldering dust shall fly With angel wings to yonder sky ; And golden harvests gladly reap : — Weep not for me: why shouldst thou iveep? When from his throne my Saviour cries, " Who rest in Christ, awake ! arise !" His voice will rouse me from my sleep : Weep not for me: ivhy shouldst thou tveep? If mourn thou must, mourn thy past years ; Shed o'er thy sins repentant tears ; Weep for thyself, with anguish deep. Weep not for me: why shouldst thou iceep? 11. If death he hard to bear as the end of temporal pain, how may it be endured as the beginning of eternal woe ? THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 12. Here is laid, in sweet repose, All a saint awhile can lose, Gloriously to be resum'd, When this earth shall be entonib'd In a more complete decay, And these heavens shall pass away. 13. We know not why our little innocents were removed ; but, as they were given in mercy, we believe that in mercy they were taken away. 14. These hillocks green, and mouldering bones. These gloomy tombs, and letter'd stones. One sad and solemn truth supply : — Art ready, reader? thou must die. A thousand joys may warm thy breast; Ten thousand cares disturb thy rest ; Thy heart may beat ; thy soul may sigh : Art ready, reader? thou must die. Eternal death has dire alarms ; Eternal life unnumber'd charms ; A hell below ; a heaven on high : Art ready, reader? thou must die. B 3 G THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 15. As a wayward child my heavenly Father cor- rected me ; as a chastened penitent he called me to his bosom. 16. Hope not, vain mortal, that a sculptur'd bust Can give an immortality to dust: The proudest potentate that fills a throne Will soon, alas ! be nothing, and unknown. "Who rais'd yon mouldering monument ?" I sigh'd. And paus'd for a reply : but none replied. Time pass'd me by, and answer'd with a frown, " Whoever rais'd it, /will pull it down." 17. Baby, baby, sleeping baby, No rude sound shall break thy rest; Here thy little head shall slumber Soft as on thy mother's breast. While the noisy world about thee In confusion rumbles by, Peace shall linger here, and give thee One eternal lullaby. Softly! did I say, "eternal?" O, no, that may never be : There are realms of joy and glory High in heaven reserv'd for thee. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. VVIien the trunip that wakes the wicked Bids them every hope resign ; Thougli their ears with terrors tingle, Whispers soft shall breathe in thine — '• Baby, l)aby, sleeping bai)y. Wake thee with immortal charms ; Light, and love, and heaven are round thee : Thou art in thy Saviour's arms. Jesus waits, and places gently Glory's crow n upon thy brow ; Rise, and with thy spirit praise him : Heaven was made for such as thou." 18. The lowly tenant of this grave design'd No mighty deed to benefit mankind ; From youth to age he pass'd his little span, An honest, inoffensive, labouring man. If this be praise, while in the world we dwell. To do our duty, and to do it well, A brighter lustre to this stone is lent Than shines round many a marble monument. 19. Art thou a thoughtless child of mirth ? Stay : for beneath this hallow'd earth The young, the beautiful, reposes; This grave her alter'd form incloses. 8 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Thy heart O let the moral reach ! O let the dead the living teach ! Tririer, prepare, for life is fleet, Prepare, prej)are, thy God to meet. Art thou a child of sorrow? Stay; For comfort can this grave convey : She, who must here till doomsday sleep. How early has she ceas'd to weep ! How large a recompence in heaven To her — for she was Christ's — is given ! Lean thou on Christ, he soon shall turn To smiles their tears who meekly mourn. 20. If to lack the knowledge of the world be igno- rance, he was ignorant. If to know him whom to know is life eternal be wisdom, he was wise. 21. O there is a heaven of enjoyment and love. All lightsome, and glorious, and free : If thou hast not lifted thy thoughts above. That heaven is no heaven for thee. The Saviour has sufFer'd pain, peril, and loss. That the sinner salvation might see : If thou art not found at the foot of his cross. That salvation is not for thee. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 9 A lull shoukl artViglit thee, a heaven should al- lure; Thy lilt', O how short it may be ! Think, thou, what thy soul may enjoy or endure, And let Christ be a Saviour to thee. 22. If thou art bound by pleasure's spell, By pride and passion driven ; A thousand paths may lead to hell, One only leads to heaven. O wouldst thou dwell, with raptur'd eyes, Near God's eternal throne ? " I am the way!" the Saviour cries-: Walk in that way alone. 23. Were tombs proportion'd to desert alone, Thou wouldst not read this simply-letter'd stone ; For then His honour'd dust, o'er which we sigh, Entomb'd beneath a pyramid would lie. 24. O God ! if sinners did but know the doom That waits the wicked when beyond the tomb; As drowning sailors struggling in the sea Cry out aloud, so would they call on thee: Oppress'd with terror, call, ere life were o'er, " O save us! or we perish evermore." 10 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 25. The stone that flatters the dead deceives the hving. '26. As some kuid parent, when beguil'd, Rebukes the son he loves the best, Then fondly calls the chasten'd child And clasps him closer to his breast; — So, when the trial-hour was past. And he the thorny path had trod, His aching bosom found at last A Friend and Father in his God. 27. This world is a desert where beautiful flowers Are hid by the weeds from sight ; But God has prepar'd celestial bowers. Where never comes weed nor blight. And thither the choicest he first removes. For ever and ever to bloom ; And when he has gather'd in all he loves. The flames shall the rest consume : — Even all who to slight his grace have dar'd. And died in mortal sin; For a furnace fierce has his wrath prepar'd, And the weeds shall be cast therein. THE CHURCH YATID LYRIST. 11 28. Atflictioii (lug this grave for me, And Time is digging thine for thee. 29. Reader, to thee it is not given On themes of bliss alone to dwell; That Holy Book which profters heaven Appals ns with the pains of hell. Rut if thy hope on Him relies Who promis'd mansions bright and fair. Thine humbled heart will ne'er despise The dread abode of dark despair. 30. He labour'd in the fields his bread to gain, He plough'd, he sow'd, he reap'd the yellow grain ; And now, by death from future service driven, Is gone to keep his harvest-home in heaven. 31 He adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour by a holy life, and illustrated the power of the Gospel in a happy death. 12 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 32. Hark! hark! a cry is gone abroad from every peopled plain, It sweeps along the sounding shore, it murmurs from the main ; From every varied spot of earth where human creatures be, It loudly echoes through the land, and spreads from sea to sea. From palace wall, and humble cot, — from town and village lone, — From everj' newly-open'd grave, and every church- yard stone, — In every language under heaven, a voice repeats the cry, — " Thy days are number d, mortal man; and thou art born to die.'' Whate'er thy state may be, whate'er the paths thy feet have trod. Forsake thy sins, and lowly kneel, and seek the Lord thy God. Prepare thee for the bed of death, though now thy bosom burn ; For dust thou art, and suddenly to dust shalt thou return. What though ten thousand flattering tongues con- spire to praise thee now, Though glittering stars adorn thy breast, and dia- dems thy brow ; — THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 13 Mid all thy dreams of earthly bliss, thou soon shalt hear the cry, Thy days are number d, mortal man ; and thou art doomed to die. 33. We have followed him through the chequered scenes of his eventful pilgrimage, and have seen how a man of God can live and die. 34. Farewell, my babe ; no more I press Thy form of light and loveliness : All knew, who gaz'd on thy sweet face, It was an angel's dwelling-pUice. And if that realm where thou art now Be tilld with beings such as thou. From sin preserv'd, from sorro\\ freed. Then heaven must be a hea\en indeed. 35. O hast thou whisper'd in thine heart, " I am too young to die," When thousands, younger than thou art, In death and darkness lie? To summon thee to meet thy doom, How quick may be the call ! E'en while thou bendest o'er my tomb. The dart of Death may fall, c 14 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 36. The name inscribed on this Record of Death will perish in the dust; but it is written also in the Book of Life, where it will endure for ever. 37. Though all thy piety and love Our sorrowing hearts remember well ; Yet would we raise our thoughts above, Nor idly on thy virtues dwell. Unhallow'd incense shall not rise. Where Death has triumph'd o'er thy doom ; Nor Flattery fling her vanities O'er the pale tenant of the tomb. With heavenly aid we hope and trust To follow where thy steps have trod ; And leave thy body in the dust. Believing that thou art with God. 38. Doom'd o'er the watery waste to roam. Full oft he brav'd the tempest's strife, Till his Redeemer call'd hin) home. And he was shipwreck'd into life. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 15 39. She is gone to the land where the care-worn and weary Enjoy the sweet rapture of sacred repose ; She has quitted for ever this wilderness dreary, And bid a long farewell to time and its woes. While on earth she was lov'd, and we deeply de- plore her : But, Ah ! shall a murmur escape from our breast? Do you ask how she liv'd? She set heaven be- fore her. Do you ask how she died ? In the faith of the bless'd. 40. When Fear assail'd. Faith bade the phantom flee; Sin bound him fast, but Christ has set him free. 41. If thou hast never stepp'd aside From Wisdom's ways and Virtue's track ; If thou hast met Temptation's tide. And beaten every billow back ; Then wilt thou, as thou passest by, The faults of others freely scan. And gazing with an angry eye. Severely judge thy fellow-man. 16 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. But, Oh ! if led by Folly's lure. Thy feet in erring paths have trod ; If Self- Reproach thy breast endure. And secret Sorrow's chastening rod ; Then wilt thou pause and ponder well. And purge from bitterness thy mind ; And thy full heart will gladly dwell In brotherhood with all mankind. 42. Though the wicked man may laugh in his life, the good man alone can smile in his death. 43. Will Time give vigour to thine health ? Preserve the charms that Nature gave ? Add countless riches to thy wealth ? Go ask the grave : go ask the grave. Where are the stores that Knowledge brings? The spoils and trophies of the brave? The pride of all created things ? Go ask the grave : go ask the grave. For bliss, above must mortals go? Can nought their earthly glories save ? Will all things perish here below? Go ask the grave : go ask the grave. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 17 44. Though Virtue made him doubly dear, Mourn not, ye good and wise; His spirit, though his dust lies here. Is happy in the skies. We boast not now his rank and birth : This monument is given To tell, not what he was on earth. But what he is in heaven. 45. Sleep, for thou hast need of rest : Thou hast suffer'd much — be blest. He thou lovedst chas'd thy fears, Now he also dries thy tears. Sleep in him a little while, Then, awaking with a smile, Rous'd by the archangel's voice. Spring to meet him, and rejoice In the glory where his grace Has prepar'd for thee a place. 46. Think not, ye proud, a little marble stone, Though fairly form'd and fashion 'd, can atone For want of kindly deeds, or bid survive A fame that ye deserve not when alive, c 3 18 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. When moulders in the dust the mortal frame. The noble and ignoble are the same. If ye amid the sons of men would blend Your fame and glory, learn to be their friend ; Do good to man, and, through each tieeting hour, Acknowledge Him who gave you all your power : Do this, ye proud, lest ye should seek in vain That heaven the lowly only shall attain. 47. How poor are the gilded escutcheons and the perishing records of the mouldering marble, when compared with the well-grounded hope that the spirit of the departed is with God ! 48. Baby ! on a kinder bosom Than thy mother's thou art sleeping ; His, whose gentler voice shall rouse thee. Not like hers to still thy weeping ; Now thou hast no tears to di"y. Thou needest now no lullaby : But to breathe divinest rapture Through thy recreated spirit. And to fill thee with the glory Jesus gives thee to inherit. Fare thee well, until we meet To pour thanksgivin2,s at his feet. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 19 49. So falls to earth the ripeii'd grain ; 'Tis buried, but to rise again. 50. If thou art trampling on thy fellow-man. And impiously despising Him on high, I fain would warn thee that this fearful ban Hangs o'er thy short-liv'd being, "Thou shalt die." And Oh ! though learnd in Sorrow's deepest gloom. No withering words, pionounc'd by mortal breath, Could shadow forth the irrevocable doom Of that tremendous curse — " Eternal death." If thou, repentant, humbly seekest peace Tlupugh thy Redeemer, God that peace will give : I bid thee in thy contidence increase. And tell thee, that in glory thou shalt live : And flaming seraph's, or archangel's tongue, With hea\enly minstrelsy and rapture rife, Would fail to make thee comprehend in song The boundless blessing of " eternal life." o 51. I died: and thou who hast my Grave in vie^^, \\ ith every passing hour ai't dying too. 20 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 52. We gaz'd upon her sunny brow, When deck'd with beauty and with bloom But Oh, how chang'd and faded now, Thou pale-fac'd tenant of the tomb ! Yet, haply, may we learn from thee, — Thy early doom in mercy given, — A fair and flattering world to flee. And trust for bliss alone in Heaven. 53. If earth be fill'd with pain and woe. Weep not that I lie here : If heaven with love and rapture glow. Rejoice, — my soul is there. 54. While yet of tender years and weak. Affliction bade her frame decline ; And legibly upon her cheek Consumption wrote, The Maid is mine. But ere she dropp'd into the grave, Mercy her cordial draught had given ; And Hope and Faith their record gave, And said, Tlie Maid is murkd for Heaven. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 21 55. Does the Grave aflrnQ;ht thee? Learn to look Iwyoiul it. 56. Fast bound to earth, the light balloon is bent. With eager haste amid the clouds to rise : Auhile 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: Here mayst thou sleep awhile, but canst not die. 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." 22 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 59. Stranger! this is a Soldier's Grave, And simple and short is his story ; He fell not in battle among the brave. Though he bled in the ranks of glory. He sicken'd and died, for his hour was come, His comrades around him condoling : We bore him away to his long, long home, The muffled drum mournfully rolling. Slowly we march'd, nor utter'd a word ; Our faces with sorrow were clouded, 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 w^e turn'd away, And struck up a strain lighthearted : But we could not forget where our comrade lay. Nor the scene where so late we parted. 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. THK CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 23 00. May the sudden bereavenuMit of tlio estiiuated individual whose memory this tal)let 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 ; The wise man knows that he is always dying : Both seek for happiness, the fool and wise, The one on earth, the other in the skies. 62. The graves around, for many a year. Were dug by him who slumbers here; Till, worn with age, he dropp'd his spade. And in this dust his dust is laid. As he now, mouldering, shares the doom Of those he buried in the tomb. 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? 24 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 64. Disease o'ertook me in my prime: I sought Ausouia's balmy shore, Though bland and genial was the clime, It could not wasted strength restore. Yet, as the gentle breezes fann'd My hectic cheek and burning brow, Delusive Hope still wav'd her hand. And spoke of joys I ne'er should know. At length a still small voice was given To break the charm that bound rue here ; It bade me fix my hopes in Heaven, And told me that my home was there. 65. Here an Infant lies asleep : Can we o'er its slumbers weep. When we think on what He said Who hath risen from the dead ? — "Suffer babes to come, for those And babes in spirit shall compose Mv heavenlv kingdom, there to be Through eternity with me." 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. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 25 When Thou, \vhose hand unerring, yet severe, Smote the lov'd heint? that lies Iniried liere, Bad'st us resion, awhiK>, our kindred clav, Alas! we had not virtue to obey. Increasing sickness loud proclaini'd thy will ; But we, rebellious, disobedient still, Oppos'd thy mighty power, and closer press'd The dear departing idol to our breast. 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. Weep not that I am gone before ; For though you lov'd me passing well. My Lord, my Saviour, lov'd me more. 'Twas He who call'd me up to heaven, And not the Almighty's vengeful rod : You could not give what he has given. Nor guide and guard me like my God. D 26 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 69. Wouldst thou be purged from pollution, "the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin." 70. "The soldier tir'd of war's alarms" May find repose in Glory's arms ; And he whose feet have swiftest run. With rapture wear the crown he won. But not so sweet the warrior's rest As his who sleeps on Jesus' breast. Emerging from severer woes. Triumphant over fiercer foes : And not such rapture can he know Who feels upon his glowing brow The envied crown, as his who gains A crown of life, and with his Saviour reigns. 71. Judge not thy hopes by what they noiv appear : What will their worth be when thou best heref 72. O, passing stranger, call this not A place of fear and gloom : I love to linger o'er the spot — It is niY babv's tomb ! THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Here luoiiiing sunbeams brightly glow; And here the moonbeam shines; While all unconsciously below My slumbering babe reclines. His little waxen rosy face I know will soon decay. And every charm, and every grace, Will moulder fast away. But when the sun and moon shall fade. My baby shall arise, In brighter beams than theirs array 'd. And reign above the skies. 73. The lowly tenant of this tomb In sorrow pass'd the glare and gloom That mark'd his little day : Misled by Passion's stormy tide. And keen desires, and wounded pride. In thorny paths he wander'd wide Through many a wildering way. In life a thousand snares surprise; Ten thousand evils round us rise. And none are free from blame. 'Twas his, alas! in evil hour To see the storm around him lower, W'hen every tongue was prompt to pour Reproach upon his name. 28 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Still let thy anger be repress'd : For inanv a virtue warm'd his breast. Though doom'd to sigh and groan. Refuse not, Reader, then to shed A tear upon his hapless head ; And, pondering o'er his dusty bed. Prepare thee for thine own. 74. Say, hast thou revolv'd, in reflection deep. Where thy body shall lie in its long last sleep ; And chosen a spot where, unheeded and free. The earth-worm thy sister and mother shall be ? Still whether entomb'd in the aisle alone Thou shalt moulder beneath the cold grey stone ; Or whether, adorning the place of thy rest. The turf and the floweret shall cover thy breast ; What avails it, alas! where the body may dwell, When thy soul will be summon'd to heaven or hell ? 75. The grave is not a place for blame, and yet we cannot raise O'er every tenant of the tomb the tribute of our praise : Didst thou but know the mournful tale of her who moulders here, Then soft regret would mingle with thine unavail- ing tear. THE CHURCHYAHl) LYRIST. 29 76. Be liuiiiblc and think on the truth that the grave Proclaims to the fool and the wise : — Proud man is at hest a poor handful of earth Whith the beggar mny pass and despise. 77. If, Reader, thou art repentant, hope and rejoice. "To the Lord our God belong mercies and for- givenesses, though we have rebelled against him." If thou art rebellious, fear and tremble, for verily *• our God is a consuming fire." 78. He was suddenly summoned hence; but his lamp was trimmed, and his light burning. 79. Wouldst thou be bless'd, plume thy aspiring w ings, And seek with all thy soul eternal things. All worldly bliss is but au empty breath. That fails in life and fades away in death. Fortune may favour, Fancy may beguile, Hope wave her golden wings and sweetly smile ; But sad Experience, with a brow o'ercast. Sighing with grief, and pointing to the past. Whispers, the fair illusion to destroy. That "joy unmingled is not earthly joy." D 3 30 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 80. I How soon shall Satan's realm of dark despair Be lit with hope ? O never ! never ! never ! How long shall sinners dwell in torment there? For ever ! and for ever ! and for ever ! 81. He looked on life as on a picture ; found it ex- cellent in design, and passing fair in execution, but painted with colours that faded fast away. The sky was clear, the foreground rich in its tints, the figures around him admirably grouped; but his quick eye discovered Death in the distance. Depressed by the discovery, and sighing for im- mortality, he laid down his pallet and pencil, and sought celestial scenes, whose prospects are not disfigured bv Death, and whose brilliant colours will endure for ever. 82. His record is on high. 83. How gladly would the illustrious dead that lie Enshrin'd in pomp, and pride, and pageantry, Could they look back and mark with thoughtful brow The littleness of all things here below; — THE CHURCHYARD LYKIST. M How gladly would they, while with honest shame They read the inaihle that extols their name, Pull down the records where their praises shine, And there inscribe a life and death like thine ! 84. What time the worn and weary rest, How sweet the thought that they are bless'd ! 85. Remendjer, my friends, though the sun may shine bright. It is well to prepare for the darkness of night; And amidst the exultings of pleasure to know What will solace the soul in the season of woe. The dearest sensations that gladden the heart. Are lent for a time, and in time will depart ; But trust them no more for support and repose Than a butterfly's wing, or the leaf of a rose. O would you be hapj)y, look round you and see What the gay, and the proud, and the wealthy shall be ; To God let your heart and your spirit be given. For happiness dwells not on earth but in hea- ven. 32 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 86. This stone is erected, reader, to tell thee that a fellow-mortal is dead, and that thou art dying; to urge thee to consider thy latter end ; and earnestly and affectionately to point thee to the Redeemer, through whose merits alone thou canst reasonably hope to leave this world in peace, "in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection to eternal life." 87. She was a mortal ; but such gifts she bore About her that we almost thought her more : For every day we saw new graces start To win our love and shrine her in our heart. The righteous Ruler of the earth and sky In mercy mark'd the fond idolatry ; Sever'd the charm, dissolv'd the guilty trust. And dash'd our beauteous idol to the dust. 88. When in dust thy dust shall lie. Whither will thy spirit fly ? 89. As a shepherd he faithfully tended his sheep, Till old age overtook him, he then fell asleep : But we trust once again his bright face to behold. In the flock that the Shepherd of Israel shall fold. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 33 90. Mortal, hast thou joy or care, Check thy mirth, and cease thy sighing; Thou hast little time to spare: Knowst thou not that thou art dying? Work while it is call'd to-day : Do thy best, for time is flying : Seek the true the living way: ilaste thee, haste, for thou art dying. Death is lingering at thy door: Hark ! he calls ; there's no denying. Wouldst thou live for evermore. Trust ill Christ, for thou art dying. 91. He will long be remembered as a bright exam- ple of piety, and as a possessor of those gifts and graces which eminently adorn a Christian minister. 92. While unconscious that danger would shorten my day, The |)athway of pleasure I trod. In a moment my spirit was sumnion'd away. And I stood hi the presence of God. 34 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. In an instant I sank 'neath the shadows of death, And eternity round me arose : O, reader, remember that life is a breath ! And a breath mav brina; thine to its close. 93. Cheer up, ye followers of the Lamb : Though grief and pain are given. Though thousand thorns atHict your feet. Your pathway leads to heaven. 94. Vain marble, dost thou hope to give The good man longer life ! O never ! A little longer thou mayst live. But he, through Christ, will live for ever. 95. He was suddenly removed from a world of sin and sorrow to the heavenly mansions prepared for him by his Saviour, for the enjoyment of which he was rendered meet " through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth." 96. Prepare thee, partner of my joys and woes. To follow and partake of my repose : As thou hast shar'd my gladness and my gloom. So must thou share with me the silent tomb. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 35 I yet shall rise, and wiiip,- u\\ way with thee Throutih the biij"ht realms o\' iiiiiiiortalitv ; And say, when I before my God appear, " The woman that thou gavest nie is here." 97. O Lord God Almighty, how many lose them- selves in losing Thee ! 98. I sought my God, for with his will Affection was at strife ; And there, unknowing good from ill, Iniplor'd thy longer life. But God in love denied my prayer : More merciful than I, He mark'd thy griefs with tender care. And call'd thee to the sky. Farewell ! for though a tear may start, And grief be check'd in vain. In " sure and certain hope" we part. In heaven to meet again. 99. Men proudly think while they have life and breath. But humbler thoughts, alas ! are known in death ; And they would give the world, so highly priz'd, For that salvation they before despis'd. 36 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 100. How soon my youth has faded, And hasten'd to decay ! — Disease ray heart invaded, And took my life away. No medicine could restore me. No drug could do me good ; The hand of God was o'er me And grief my only food . Of them I leave behind me. Let me some pity crave : Here let them come and find me, And weep upon my grave. O ye, who Life's gay morning Consume in joy and glee, By my decease take warning, Nor pass by heedlessly. Think much of human weakness : From every folly cease ; And live in love and meekness, That you may die in peace. 101. To us it appeared mysterious that he should be snatched away in the midst of a life of usefulness ; but " my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 37 102. O fiod, niv trust, what llioiiiih in dust My body mouldcriiii; he ! By grace divine my soul is thine, And reigns in heaven with thee. 103. So yields unto the woodman's blow The tree which long, in some low glade, From winter's storm and summer's glow Has lent a shelter and a shade : But now, for nobler purpose meet, It tails, — that it may rise — pride of some gallant fleet. His mouldering ashes we deplore A nobler form shall take ere long, Doom'd to obscurity no more ; But, witii festivity and song, Launch'd, while all heaven stands by to see, On the pure crystal tide of full felicity. 104. She was a consistent Christian, and faithfully devoted to the interests of her master and mis- tress, not only in the day of prosperity, but during the dark season of adversity. E 3B THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 105. No statue bends in mimic gloom, Nor marble tears besj)eak his doom ; But Friendship and Affection shed Their living sorroAvs o'er the dead. No sculptur'd record spreads his worth Around this spot of mouldering earth ; But Faith, with heaven-directed eyes. Stands calmly gazing on the skies. 106. This stone will tell thee what is known full well, That all are journeying heavenward, or to hell. Where others go may well be worth thy knowing But think, O Reader, which way thou art going. 107. Here rest the ashes of a Christian warrior, who never wielded lance or sword, and whose hand was guiltless of blood. He wore *' the whole ar- mour of God," fought against sin, and conquered in the name of the Most High. No hatchment decorates his tomb ; no emblazoned banner floats over his moiddering dust: yet in the great day of account shall he be acknowledged as a faithful soldier of Christ, and be esteemed more than a conqueror. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. ^9 Cheerful he pass'd his days below, Tliough thorny paths his feet had trod; For he had found in every woe The mingled mercies of his God : And they sustain'd him in his fears, In youth, in manhood, and in years. In every stage new hopes were lent To strengthen him in worldly strife. As messengers of mercy sent To mitigate the cares of life : And when, by disappointment driven Away from earth, they fix'd on heaven. 109. Though all the wealth of all the world In sparkling heaps were thine, Still wert thou poor, amidst thy gains, Uubless'd with grace divine. 110. Awhile her spirit suti'er'd pain ; With sin and sorrow strove ; Then sprung impatiently to gain A heaven of joy and love. 40 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Thus bound the light balloon is bent Amid the clouds to rise — Waits only till its cords are rent. Then rushes to the skies. 111. If thou art young, and vain, and proud, Gaze on this lonely spot; No flatterer greets thee in the grave : Prepare to be forgot. But dost thou think, fond silly boy. So gallant, gay, and brave. That all who smile upon thee now Will weep upon thy grave "? O no ! the nettle and the grass Will grow around thy stone : The moss will gather o'er thy name, And thou wilt rest unknown. 112. Sleep, thou favour'd child of light ! Soon will pass the dreary night: Waking, thou the morn shalt see, — What a glorious morn for thee ! Then thy darkness shall be o'er; Then thy sun shall set no more ; But with brightest, warmest ray, Cheer thy everlasting day. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 41 113. If all must suffer death, the general doom, Say, art thou ready, Reader, for the tomb ? 114. When the stars of heaven, that shine so bright. Shall fall to the earth and all be night, This grave shall send forth a star to the sky. That shall brightly shine through eternity. 115. Art thou young, and this world dost thou love ? O whv shouldst thou thoughtlessly roam ? Thy Father is calling thy young heart above. And the beautiful heavens are thy home : To thy home, truant boy — to thy home! Hast thou number'd the years of a man? O think then in time of thine end ! Though thy griefs may be many — though life be a span. Yet God is thy father and friend : To thy friend, man of grief- — to thy friend ! Art thou aged in years and in woes? And weary, and worn, and oppress'd? There's a peace for the pilgrim — a place of repose, And heaven is appointed for rest : To thy rest, man of years — to thy rest! E 3 42 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 116. It may be deem'd a meritorious thing That I should give my life to serve my king; But O, amazing grace beyond degree ! The King of kings laid down his life for me. 117. A soldier lies beneath the sod, Who many a field of battle trod : When Glory call'd, his breast he bar'd, And toil, and want, and danger shar'd. Like him through all thy duties go ; Waste not thy strength in useless woe ; Heave thou no sigh, and shed no tear : A British soldier slumbers here. 118. Take, hallow'd earth, the fairest maid That ever on thy lap was laid. And let thy sweetest flowerets grace And breathe around her resting-place. When springing from the lonely tomb, Her cheek will wear a fresher blooiu ; And still more lovely will she be Than when we gave her up to thee. THE CHURCHYARl) LYIUST. 4:J 119. He possessed an abiding confidence in the wis- dom, love, and power of his Savionr; and, under many painful vicissitudes, experienced tlie truth of that promise — "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee." 120. Would mortals lowly bend the knee, In seasons of despair. And make their trouble known to God, — And God is everywhere, — Then need they never pass their lives In sorrow and in gloom ; Nor raise a murmuring thought on high. Nor tremble at the tomb : For every whisper reaches heaven When contrite sinners cry ; And God is swift, in time of need, His mercy to supply. 121. One of the best of friends is dead , And they have laid him here ; Tread lightly on his hallow'd bed, For death has made it dear. 44 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 122. When from this earthly scene our friends are flown, — Their wonted haunts — the chamber where they died — Their place of sepulture and churchyard stone — O ! these are records that are sanctified, If aught of sanctity amid the tide Of strong affection may be said to roll. These in the heart tenaciously abide, And, while they cling around with sweet con- trol, Give solace to the mind, and warn the careless soul. 123. Sinner! if the uncertainty of life alarm thee not, tremble at the irrevocable certainty of death. 124. As the bright cloud of heaven, in the noon of the day, He threw gladness around him, then glided away : Though he moulders in dust, we are free from all fear. For where God reigns in glory he yet will ap- pear. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. l.J 125. Here he lies in desolation; Saviour, thou his strength wilt be : All his trust was thy salvation; All his hope was tix'd on thee. Every path through which he waiider'd — Every prize he proudly won — Every thought his bosom ponder'd — Every deed in frailty done — Every vain, impatient token — Every base, unworthy part — Every word in error spoken — E^ ery tolly of his heart — All require thy expiation : Thou his frailties wilt forgive ; Thou w ilt grant him thy salvation ; Thou hast died, and he shall live. 126. Tread lightly, if the grace be given To reverence earthly thing ; A Christian is an heir of heaven : Thou treadest on a king. 127. He calmly met his latter end : The Friend of Sinners was his friend. Nor need he e'en the judgment fear. For Christ his Saviour will be there. 46 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 1-28. O what a senseless fool is man to swallow The bubbles of the world, so light and hollow; To drink its frothy draughts in careless mood, And live upon such empty, airy food ! Life is, at best, a transitory glow ; A momentary breath of weal and woe : Our moments pass as though we did despise them. And when we cannot have them, then we prize them. Wouldst thou reverse this sinful strange beha- viour. Then call thou on thy Guardian and thy Saviour: Repentant, at his feet adoring fall ; Make him thy Lord, thy God, thy hope, thy all. 129. As a lowly follower of his Saviour he adorned the doctrines of the Gospel: he visited the sick, comforted the afflicted, and went about doing good to the souls and bodies of men. He pro- claimed the glad tidings of salvation, and w arned sinners to "flee from the wrath to come." Through all his pilgrimage, he cast his burdens on Him who had promised to sustain them ; and calmly passed the dark valley of the shadow of death, fearing no evil, being comforted by the rod and staff of his Redeemer. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 47 130. Were there no nutminients but such as stood To niourii the wise, the tender, and the good, Tliongh many a marble tomb might disappear. Yet this rude stone would still be standing here. 131. " Die!" said the Justice Adam first Frovok'd by disobedient pride: Sprung from a parent so accurs'd, He paid the j)enalty and diefl. liut " Live!" eternal Mercy said; " For life the second Adam gives. Who sutfer'd in the sinner's stead:" — He heard, believ'd, and now he lives. 132. Bv all belov'd, and full of love to all, Death shock'd her friends, but could not her ap- j)al : She pass'd serenely to the realms above, L'pborne by arms of everlasting love. 133. Bethink thee. Reader, all are born to die. How many underneath these hillocks lie ! Their lives are past, and thine will soon be o'er; Think now, if thou hast never thought before. 4a THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 134. They w ho labour for the worUl shall receive the wages of the world, in temporary honours and riches that "make to themselves wings," and "fly away." They who serve God shall be re- compensed by God; — here with "a peace that passeth understanding," and hereafter with "an exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 135. He pass'd a life of mingled cares, Such is the lot of man below, Till age's grey and silvery hairs Were thinly scatter'd on his bi'ow. He liv'd through many a grief, to prove That God could guard and guide him well ; He died to find that God is love, And with him evermore to dwell. 136. The brightest earthly hope is but a brilliant bubble bursting against a tombstone. 137. Bethink thee, sinner, wandering wide astray. Of the dread horrors of the judgment-day : Better that now the thought oppress thy soul Than floods of wrath for ever o'er thee roll. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 49 Will Cod, indeed, pronounce, with changeless ire, " Depart, ye cursed, into (juenchless fire?" Read for thyself; take not from nie the token : I only speak the words that God has spoken. 138. Reader, if thou thinkest lightly of the happi- uess and misery of another world, renieniher that millions of ages crowding on niillionsof ages — mil- lions of ages crowding on millions of ages — and again, millions of ages CTowding on n)illions of ages — are hut the beginning of eternity. 139. I heard a fearful voice, and fell supine : 'Twas Death that spoke — " The sons of men are mine !" 140. Believer, shrink not from thy body's doom. For Christ thy Saviour slumber'd in the tomb: Take courage then, and Faith shall conifort give — Sure as he died, so sure thy soul shall live. 141. A child of Adam, — "dust to dust" His body here was given ; A child of Jesus, — with the just His spirit lives in heaven. F 50 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 142. Give not sleep to thine eyes, nor slumber to thine eyelids, till thou hast sought that hope of eternal life which is freely offered in the Gospel of the Redeemer. This hope shall animate thy soul, give thee peace in the troublous storms of life, and, amid the fears and darkness of expiring nature, rush as a flaming angel to rescue thee from destruction. 143. Gaze on his Grave, thou passer-by. Who paths of trouble trod ; And learn from him, in all thy woes, To put thy trust in God. Then, wading through thy sorrows deej). They shall not thee o'erflow ; And all uninjur'd shalt thou pass Where fiercest trials glow. Fear not the flood; despise the flame; Thy God through Christ adore : He was, he is the Sinner's Friend, And will be evermore. 144. I sought from sickness to be free, But Death was stem and steady : They dug this darksome grave for me, And thine is almost ready. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. ol 145. Art thou lill'd with worldlv i^ood ? Look upon this tahh't rude : Uutldess Death will but deride Riches, beauty, youth, and pride. I have nothing new to tell: There is a heaven ; — there is a hell ; A God of mercy often tried ; A Saviour who for sinners died : At his footstool l(»\vly fall — Go thy way, and think of all. 146. Didst hear the toll Of that sad solemn bell ? It said, " A soul Is gone to heaven or hell!" 147. Pause ! Reflect ! Pass on ! 148. Not hers to linger here on earth, Consum'd by slow decay : Death, like a sudden whirlwind, came. And swept her life away. 52 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Yet can we bless His holy name Who caird her thus on high ; For those who wing their way to bliss Too swiftly cannot fly. 149. Though months and years, in pain and tears, Through troubled paths I trod. My Saviour's voice bid me rejoice, And call'd my soul to God. 150. O'er his ashes weeping bend A wife, a child, and many a friend, Who vainly hop'd that Heaven would spai'e The object of their fervent prayer. But the God who erreth not Had appointed for his lot Brief endurance, endless rest. His decrees are wisest, best : And we mourn, but not repine, As we earth to earth consign. Humbly hoping, with his spirit. We shall endless life inherit. 151. Yes, thine may be the joys of vice. And thine without control ; But Oh, at what a fearful price! — The price may be thy soul. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 't'i 152. It is good to breathe the atmosphere of hene- volence, in pondering over the honoured ashes of those, who, when alive, were the refuge of the destitute, and the friends of suffering humanity. 153. O plaut thy hopes where Time will ne'er destroy ! Fix not thy wayward heart on earthly joy: The painted bubble rises bright and fair. And glitters gloriously, then bursts in air. 154. We eould indulge in fond regret for the loss of one whom we had reason to love. The pride of sculpture might illustrate the charity of his heart ; the pathos of poetry might extol his under- standing : but we have to record what is dearer to our affections, and more grateful to our remem- brance. He lived in the fear and favour of God, and died in tjie faith of our Lord and Saviour Je- sus Christ. 155. Through various scenes of sorrow Christians go : By turns they fear and hope, rejoice and weep; And, looking upwards, through their weal and woe. Pass through their pilgrimage, and fall asleep. F 3 54 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. To some, disease, and pain, and mourning weeds. And nights of grief, and darksome days are given ; Some emulate Elijah's fiery steeds. And rush like lightning to the gate of hea- ven. But what avails the sunbeam or the blast? What, if in grief or joy their path was trod ? Enough that when the gloomy grave is pass'd They meet together at the throne of God. 156. This stone is erected to perpetuate the victory of an immortal spirit, that fought the good fight under the banner of the cross, burst through the shackles of humanity, rose over the ruins of the grave, and winged its way to life and immortality. 157. O, trust in God in every strife. And he shall give thee power Midst all the suffering scenes of life. And soothe thy dying hour. What time the waves of Jordan swell. His word shall whisper, •' All is well." THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 55 158. Tlic fool has a i)n)verl) all sj)arkl'uiu, aiul bright, - "Enjoy thyseir while thou hast breath:" The wise have another for ever in sight, — " The wages of sin are but death." 159. ^Vhen thorns are smarting in thy side. And dark is thine abode, When thou art sad and sorely tried, O turn thee to thy God. Bow down submissive to His will Whom seraphim adore : In every storm of life be still. And trust Ilim evermore. For He can make thy burden light. Drive all thy fears away, And chase the darkness of thy night With everlasting day. 1(J0. This tomb is erected over the remains of a man, honest, open-hearted, and sincere; manly, generous, and humane : he lived a model of pub- lic and private worth, and died a pattern of piety and virtue. 56 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST 161. This simple stone shall bear a simple line; — Here lies a sinner sav'd by grace divine. 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. That, mouldering underneath the silent sod. Lies a true Christian, waiting for his God. 164. The godly man has every thing to hope ; The ungodly every thing to fear. 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. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 67 Twas mercy easVl my tioublofl heart, And rais'd my th<>ii!ihts above; And told me peace miy,ht yet be found In my Redeemer's love. Through all njy joys and troubles past Mercies have mark'd my way ; And still they gatlu'r'd round my path With every opening day. On earth I prais'd thee, O my God, For mercies great and free ; And now, in realms of light and love, My soul is full of thee. 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 lam the grave! 58 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 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 To turn heavenward thy face, and seek pardon for sin : Thy Saviour alone from destruction can save ; Despise not my warning, for / am the grave. 169. Alas ! how little power to man is given To hand his greatness down to future time ! The proudest tomb in ruin shall be riven. Though deck'd with marble, and adorn'd with rhyme. Weaken'd and wasted by the tempest rude, The mighty pyramids themselves shall sever : The man that's truly great is truly good ; His name, and his alone, shall live for ever. 170. O ! they were ever gentle found. And lovely, fair, and bright; Like sunlit clouds they mov'd around. And bless'd our wondering sight. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Of> But ill tlie uiorniiig ot" their diiy We saw a storm arise ; Like sunlit clouds they j)ass'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 7101V, that Christ thy guilty soul may save For there is no repentance in the grave. 173. Pilgrim to a world of gladness, Christian, though thy lot be low. Sorely tried with sin and sadness, Take thy stati", and onward go. Though thou suffer cold and hunger. Pain and peril, want and woe. Bear thy griefs a little longer; Gird thy loins, and onward go. Death is but a dreamless slumber; God will heavenly joys bestow; Joys that angels cannot number: Onward, pilgrim — onward go. GO THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 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 re- gions of immortality, and planted it in the para- dise 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 we buried him low in the dark cold grave. In the dark cold grave we laid his head ; 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, unru filed brow : His fervent breast is lifeless now : Those lips, which lov'd the truth to press On every heart, are motionless. In love and zeal his course he trod — The hallovv'd messenger of God : Sought not to dazzle, but to win The soul from error and from sin. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. «1 Too iipriglit, earnest, lumilile, meek. The praise of liuiiiaa tongues to seek, His ardent heart exulted more To bear the cross his Saviour bore. His wisdom he from Scripture drew: God's law was holy, just, and true; While words of love and mercy hung Harmonious on his gifted tongue. Reproach and praise he meekly bore ; We honour'd much, — we lov'd him more; And many a grateful heart confess'd The labours of his life were bless'd. His daily walk exemplified The faith in which he liv'd and died. An Israelite of heart sincere, An heir of glory slumbers here. 177. At five years old my heart was light; With health my cheek was red : But sickness came, and I lie here. And moulder 'mong the dead. To me it seem'd too soon to die ; But what God wills is best. Or I had not been call'd so soon To my eternal rest. G (;2 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 178. This stone is erected over the bones of an aged domestic, «hose memory will be long che- rished with affectionate attachment by the family she so long and so faithfully served. 179. He died where the brave in battle meet; His Avar-cloak was his winding-sheet, Bestain'd with blood ; and the midnight blast Rush'd round him as he breath'd his last. He sank as a soldier, without a tear: The crimson sod was his bed and his bier Where he lay in state, and the clear blue sky All studded with stars was his canopy. O there is a feeling, warm and strong, That is keenly felt — that is cherish'd long. Worth more than funeral plume or pall, For those who for their country fall ! Thougli coffin'd with care in this hallow'd spot The warrior's dust reposes not ; Yet this tablet a thousand hearts shall tell How a British warrior fought and fell. *S" 180. The tenant of this little grave. Our hope, and joy, and pride. Was snatch'd away from our embrace : In early youth he died. THE CHURCHYARD LYRISP. 03 If thou art young, make no delay A simple child to bend, And thus put up a jH'ayer to him Who is the Sinner's Friend : — " Whate'er in this uncertain world My lite through time may be. Still let me, O my Saviour, pass Eternity with thee!" 181. We carve not his praise on the mouldering stone, But the earth and the heavens pass away. And the dead shall arise, and his deeds shall be known In that great and that terrible day. We believe, when the ruin is spreading around. When creation is wasted with tire, That his hope in his God will uninjur'd be found. And his happiness never expire. 182. He was old in years and in honours, in wisdom and in virtue; his atflictions were sanctified ; and, laying hold of that hope which brings a man " peace at the last," he closed a life of usefulness by a death of tranquillity. 64 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 183. They only, who the Promis'd Land espy. Can leave this wilderness without a sigh. 184. He was born and brought up on the billow ; His home was the fathomless deep : But now the cold earth is his pillow. And sound and unbroken his sleep. The winds and the waves cannot shake him ; The tempest unheard shall arise. Till the blasts of the trumpet awake him. And call him in haste to the skies. 185 Many Christians like her have lived a life of hope; but few like her have died a death of exultation. 186. Hark ! hark! I heard a voice, " Alas! The heavens and earth aicay shall pass ! " Once more it spoke : — what said it then ? " Prepare for death, ye sons of men!'' It nearer comes : — what says the cry ? " Thy days are number d: thou must die!' It speaks to me ; its warning tell : " Death and the judgment ! heaven and hell!" THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. <)0 187. She was one who knew well the value of her Bible, and accounted tlic Sabbath a tlelight. She lived to adoin her Christian profession, and died in the full assurance of a blessed immortality. 188. If lust of human praise disturb thy rest. And selfish passions reign within thy breast. Pass on, nor linger o'er his honour'd shrine; This grave demands a purer tear than thine. 189. My God has been my better part. In all my wants and ways; And fiU'd with ecstasy my heart, And taught my tongue his praise. Pity was beaming from his eye. And mercy raark'd his will : E'en when he made me droop and die. He was my Father still. His word consign'd me to the ground ; His power will bid me rise ; His trumpet from above shall sound. And call me to the skies. G 3 66 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 190. Doubt not, while, pondering on a mortal's doom, Thou gazest on the relics of the tomb, That these dry bones again shall rise and live At His almighty word who life can give. God form'd them from the dust, and He, once more, Can give them strength and beauty as before, Though strewn as widely as the desert air, — As winds can waft them, or as waters bear. 191. Whether we think of heavenly things. Or read the sacred word. This solemn question still should rise, Say, " Lovest thou the Lord?" And happier. Reader, shalt thou be. Than words can e'er express, If, when the question's put to thee. Thy heart can answer, " Yes." 192. While the bush bloom'd, the bud wither'd; — While the tree flourish'd, the sapling was broken ; — While the parent liv'd, the offspring was carried to the tomb. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. «7 193. Her |)ioty was not only pure, but practical. It taught her to relieve the sorrows of earth, as well as to seek the joys of heaven. She delighted in errands of mercy, and increased her own happi- ness by ministering to the wants of those whose lot was more humble than her own. Reader, Humanity has lost a friend. 194. Alas! that human hearts should burn. And swift in fierce contention fall ; Nor from their Saviour mercy learn, Whose boundless mercy shines on all. Offended man indignant stands To smite his fellow -man, nor spares; While God, with lightnings in his hands. Looks down on sinners and forbears. 195. He was an humble disciple of the Redeemer: and happy would it be for the Ceesars and Alexan- ders of the world, could they exchange their earthly diadems for the heavenly crown which he is ap- pointed to wear. 68 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 196. O that this mouldering stone may remind a sin- ner of the mercy that may be found in a Saviour! 197. Reader ! this stone, engraven clear, Two warnings will supply : It tells us that our child lies here. And thee, that thou must die. 198. If happiness possess thy heart, Or grief; with all thy power To Him who gave thee life and hope Devote thy every hour. For He alone, when nature sinks. And fails thy fleeting breath, Can keep thee from the bitter pains Of an eternal death. • And He thy dying hour can cheer, And faith and grace supply ; And take thee to his dwelling-place. Where thou shalt never die. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. (59 199. Hark ! Iieard \e not that melancholy blast That, bursting" from the tomb, this warning gave— "Youth, health, and strength, and beauty may not last ! Corruption and the worm are in the grave?" 200. No relative near him to bid depart The gloom that fast gather'd around his heart ; No tongue the bright vision of hope to tell : Far, far from his home and his friends he fell. The death-sob pass'd, and no comrade was nigh To echo a soldier's latest sigh : No prayer was preferr'd, and no sigh was given, To point the wavering soul to heaven. 'Mong strangers to die was his lonely lot : They buried him low in this silent spot. Where the evening breeze roves wild and free, And the worm his sister and mother shall be. This sod shall be wet with as bright a tear As ever yet fell on a soldier's bier ; And a sigh shall be heav'd as deep and as dread As love ever breath'd o'er a warrior dead. 70 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 201. O, Reader, icatch! for death is ever near; And pray! then his approach \ou need not fear. 202. A man of peace, the Ahiiighty he ador'd ; And oftentimes his troubled heart deplor'd That human hands, for deeds of love design'd. Should sternly shed the blood of humankind. In meek submission to his God's decree. He left this world a brighter world to see ; And gently sunk to his eternal rest, A thousand kindly thoughts around his breast. 203. What though her breast was sorely press'd With darkness, doubt, and fears; Though earthly woes around her rose, And peril, pain, and tears: In raiment white, of living light, She dwells in glory now ; Nor couldst thou gaze the glittering blaze Of her refulgent brow. In faith and love she look'd above When earthly joys had flow n ; And sought her God beneath the rod, In Jesus' name alone. THK CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 71 Slie liv'd to trace lier Saviour's grace, Tlioiii;li troiil)le wciiih'd lier down: Tlirougii grief and loss she bore His cross, And now she wears His crown. 204. All his learning was clearly to ascertain God's will, as it is revealed to us in the Scri})tures; and all his wisdom to keep God's comniandnients. 205. In every stage of life is given A warning voice; it comes from heaven. In childhood's hour it breathes around — " The fairest Jioicers are faded found." In youth it whispers as a friend — " Rejiect upon thy latter end.'' In manhood louder swells the cry — " Remember thou art born to die.'' In age it thunders on the blast — " O man, thy earthly years are past!" In joy and grief — in ease and care — In every stage — " Prepare! Prepare! 200. No longer let your sorrows flow. Hut rather praises bring; He was a Pilgrim, once, we know, But now, he is a King. ?2 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 207. Ill early days my hopes were blighted : 1 dearly lov'd ; my love was slighted. The primrose pale, the weeping willow, The wither'd rose, the heaving billow, Reminded me of joys departed : I stood alone, and heavy-hearted. Gazing on high, with spirit broken, A rainbow beam'd ; 'twas mercy's token ; It led me to a land of gladness. And seem'd to say, " Leave all thy sadness." I sought that land in fervent prayer, And found my God, my Saviour there; Then gladly left these scenes of sorrow. To enter on a cloudless morrow. 208. And art thou by thy conscience torn For wandering far and wide ? And has thy reason held in scorn A Saviour crucified ? O ! turn again and lowly kneel, For yet his grace is free ; And he a wounded heart can heal. And pardon even thee. 209. If the dust of a good man be reverenced by thee. Reader, tread lightly. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 73 210. Reader, be not thou among those who to obtain the trinkets of Time are willing to give up the treasures of Eternity. 211 And is the gate of life so strait That many cannot win it? The way so very narrow too Tliat few are found within it? O gird thy loins, set out for heaven, Ere earth's enjoyments wither ; And give not slumber to thine eyes, Till thou art journeying thither. 212. And dost thou, Reader, wandering forth alone, Re(juire to know for whom this graven stone Records that day of death which all shall see? For thee, frail tenant of the dust, /or thee. It speaks of heaven and hell ; of hope and fear It cries aloud, " The judgment-day is near, And Christ alone can set the sinner free!" Again I say, this stone was rais'd for thee. H 74 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 213. My children are dead, And they moulder alone ; Their spirits are fled To a world all unknown : I gaze on their death-bed With sorrow, and sigh, " And are ye but dust then? Alas! what am H" 214. Thy Saviour seek with all thy soul, Ere time away shall flee ; For what a vast unbounded thing Eternity must be ! The blades of grass, the grains of sand On ocean's shore that lie. Ten thousand times ten thousand told, Are not Eternity. 215. So manifold were her virtues, that were aff'ec- tion to speak truth of her it would be mistaken for flattery. She lived in the practice of good works, and died in the faith of Jesus Christ and of him crucified. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. lO 216. No, not a inoinciit canst thou (lr;ith delay: Ere the clock strikes tli\ soul may pass away. 217. If thou canst trust, when troubles roll. Him whom thy being gave, Then with sustaining hope thy soul May look beyond the Grave. He sees, and is acquainted well With all thy secret fears ; He knows where all thy sorrows dwell, Thy weakness and thy tears. And w hen the storms of life are past. When earthly hope slia'll cease, His word shall comfort thee, at last. And bid thee die in peace. 218. Wit and Worth and Wisdom fled, When she was number'd with the dead ; But Beauty, sharer of her doom, Was laid beside her in the tomb. Hope lingering waits till she arise ; While Faith, with adorative eyes. Gazes on heaven, the gift of grace. And cries, " Behold her dwelling-place!" 76 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 219. By afflictive dispensations her heavenly Father gradually withdrew her affections from earth to heaven, and prepared her to dwell for ever in his presence. 220. If thou canst sacrifice, with breast of steel. Thy country's welfare to thy private weal ; Then know a patriot's dust this spot endears : — Stain not the tomb with thy polluted tears. 221. Though a sinner reposes, a saint shall arise, And the tenant of earth wing his way to the skies. 222. Thy heart and thy soul amid sunbeams may be, And with pleasure their influence hail : But what will the beams of the sun do for thee. When the shadows of midnight prevail ? O look for a rod and a staff that shall stay Thy frail being w hen struggling for breath ; And seek for a lamp that shall lighten thy way, And illume the dark pathway of death. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 77 223 Silent in dust lie mouUlerino lies, And faded every feature : O, Reader, darest thou despise Thy humhler fellow-creature? Is there aught in a negro's name That mercy may not save him? Or dost thou think that God can blame The colour that he gave him? If in our future hell or heaven Be aught of retribution. And pain and punishment be given For cruelty's pollution ; Then \\\\\ the oppress'd their wrongs declare ; The opi)ressor's arm be slacken'd ; And sunburnt faces may be fair, And ours as midnight blacken'd. 224. \Vith all thy heart, in all thy pains, On thy Redeemer dwell ; For he whose spirit God sustains Will bear his troubles well. The world may frown, thy soul may sigh, And death thy being sever ; Yet shalt thou still exulting fly, And tlwell with God for ever. H 3 78 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 225. Boast not, Reader, of high birth, nor of the splendour of thy connexions ; but rather regard corruption as thy father, and the worm as thy mother and thv sister. 226. Here rests his head until the trump of doom Shall wake the slumbering tenants of the tomb; Then shall he rise, the heaven of heavens explore. And leave the dust of death to die no more. 227. He combined a peculiar delicacy and simplicity of character with great soundness of judgment and intellectual vigour ; maintaining, amidst va- rious privations, and much bodily sutfering, an unshaken confidence in the mercy and merits of his Redeemer. 228. Dost thou wander, child of clay. O'er the land or watery deep ? While thou journeyest on thy way. As thou sowest thou shalt reap. THE CHURCHYAllI) LYRIST. 71) Be it evil, day and night Evil in thy |)ath shall grow ; Disappointment, wild aH'right, Present pain and future woe. Be it good, then good shall rise: Dost thou God through Christ adore ? Onward hasten to the skies : Thou art bless'd for evermore. 229. Ambition, honour, wealth, and worldly pride, The painted bubbles mortal men adore, Burst, when they come in contact with the tomb. And all their glittering hues are seen no more. 230. His knowledge was excellent, for he had been taught the "fear of the Lord:" his riches were great, for he had the " pearl of great price" in his possession. 2.31. A stranger from across the sea Lies here : his name it matters not ; In heaven it may remember'd be, When this his tombstone is forgot. 80 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 232. I liad a flower, a beauteous flower : it was my liope aud trust; Death rudely siiapp'd its slender stem, and left it in the dust. O sad it was that cruel death my joy away should fling! And sadder still that I should trust so fair and frail a thing ! They tell me that some future day my floweret will arise In fairer, brighter colours dress'd, aud bloom amid the skies: If this be true, 'tis all in vain that I should sorrow here, No ; I will learn the way to heaven, and seek my floweret there. 233. Awake, fond dreamer, leave thy syren lay — Gird up thy loins — quickly thy staft'comraand — Put sandals on thy feet, and haste away — For thou art journeying to a distant land. And hast no time to tan*y. Dost thou stand ? Escape thou for thy life ! Thy soul to bind Temptations strong are ready — Death's at hand: — On thy Redeemer call with heart and mind : Sure as thy soul shall seek, so sure thy soul shall find. rUF, CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 81 •234. Slie lived (he life of an hiinihle Cliristian, and died the death of the rinlitetms; liaving that eii- 24(j. Oi'U'ii did thev unite in sina,in!> the songs of Zioii uliile on earth; and we believe their xoices are now heard where the trunipet-tongued halle- lujahs o( angels and archangels proclaim that the I^rd God Omnipotent rcigneth. 247. Doubt that the sun is in the skies, — That light to day is given; But never doubt this dust shall rise, And spring from earth to heaven. 248. Nature did much for him, in giving him a mild and amiable disposition ; but Grace did more, in teaching him to follow the blessed footsteps of his Saviour. 249. In early youth, such was the untimely doom. My blooming boy was carried to the tomb ; And ere the grass upon his grave had grown. My daughter too, my only child, was gone. How bless'd are they in earlier years who go From this vain world of wickedness and woe ! Ask ye then why I grieve and drop a tear? They were my children, and are buried here. I 86 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 250. She was conscientious in the discharge of all the duties belonging to her station in lite, and faith- fully devoted to the interests of her master and mistress, from aftectiou as well as from religious principle. 251. We firmly trust, though here her dust Entomb'd awhile remains, Her spirit bless'd, in peace and rest, The heaven of heavens contains. 252. How vain are all worldly pursuits, when placed in competition with the salvation of the soul ! 253. Though many a widow mourns the spirit fled. And orphans sorrow for his early doom, No banner speaks the triumphs of the dead. Nor breathing marble decorates his tomb. The blazon'd banner, and the bust may swell The pomp of greatness, and excite surprise : A simple stone is quite enough to tell The passing stranger where a good man lies. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. ft? 254. As much as mortal mould could e'er assume Of heavenly form and fashion in the fonih Here mouldering lies. What will its beauty he, When robed in light and immortality? 255. He was a simple man, and simple shall be his epitaph. Bent down with a weight of years, his heart was strong, for he read his Bible, and be- lieved the promises it contains. In ho|>e of a joyful resurrection through his Saviour he died; and with the same hope we have here committed his body to the dust. 256. In all the changes of thy life, Still for thy death prepare : O give thine earliest youth to God ; Thine age shall be his care. 257. When thoughts of sin and grace are given. How dark is hell ! how bright is heaven ! O seek thy Saviour, and prepare The one to shun, the other share. 88 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 258. When thunders are rolling, when lightnings are hurl'd, And the blasts of destruction arise, He calmly may smile at the storms of the world Whose treasures are safe in the skies. 259. Ripen'd har\ est ! which the Lord Here hath in his garner stor'd. Till, with reproductive voice. O'er his labours he rejoice. And the fields ethereal sow With such precious seed as thou : Ripen'd harvest ! till that day. Here each torpid germ we lay Of the glory and the bliss All shall wake to, who are His : Safe each atom will he keep Of the dead in Him who sleep. 260. We know that this perishable memorial will only keep alive his memory for a few fleeting years; but we believe that when his name shall be forgotten by sinners on earth, it will be re- membered by his Saviour in heaven. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 89 201. And art thou gone? In hurried haste Thy brief career is run : Thy little pilgrimage is past; Farewell ! farewell, my son ! To Him thy spirit I commend Who first thy being gave; And for a little season lend Thy body to the grave. Ere long thy now unconscious heart, With gladness and surprise, Thy fleshly, mouldering, mortal part Immortal shall arise. 262. Not for the dead these graven stones : O no, the dead will never heed them : They mutely stand mid mouldering bones. And only speak to those who read them. 263. Grim Death surpris'd him all alone. And forc'd him unprepar'd to flee: So, Reader, we have rais'd this stone That it may not prove so with thee. I :i 90 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 264. The man who moulders here beneath the sod Rever'd and lov'd the Scriptures of his God : He read them gladly; bound them to his breast ; Found in them hope, and peace, and heavenly rest: They taught him humbling truths — himself to know — In doubt, and fear, and trouble, where to go — To live, to die, — and, in his latest breath, They gave him promise of life after death. Though in this grave his dust a season be, Where God and heaven are, doubtless there is he. 265. Few are there with a frame so strong ; Few are there who have liv'd so long ; And fewer still, just and sincere As he whose body moulders here. 266. No estimate can reach the value of an im- mortal soul: none, therefore, can tell what he has achieved who has ' ' turned a sinner from the error of his ways, and saved a soul from death." THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 01 •267. He was learned, sensible, candid, anci pious; and in a threat measure lived above the world while he lived in it. 268. In vain we fondly strove to stay Her sojourn in this land of sadness; For angels beckon'd her away. And bore her to the realms of gladness. 269. It was his earnest desire to walk worthy of the Gospel, and to shew forth the praises of Him who had called him out of darkness into his marvel- lous light. 270. In doubts, and fears; in grief, and tears ; His troubles none can tell : Though rude the blast, his pains are past : He sleeps, and all is well. The trump of doom, that rends the tomb, And bids the dead arise, Shall only raise his heart with praise, And call him to the skies. 92 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 271. The mighty monarch, spreading far and wide His throne's dominion, and his kingly pride; The statesman, anxious to secure from thrall His little portion of this little hall; The learn'd, the proud, the courtier, and the boor; The sordid miser, and the pauper poor ; Whate'er their state, their grandeur, or degree, All lose their earthly hopes, O Grave! in thee. 272. A faithful soldier of the Cross here lies : His duty done in every earthly station. He looks for honours now in yonder skies. Through Christ, the Captain of his great salva- tion. 273. Gaze on the mouldering ashes of the dead, and let the ruins that sin has made urge thee to fly to a Redeemer. Defraud not thyself of bliss, for God is merciful. Deceive not thy own heart, for God is a jealous God. Refuse not the offer of his mercy ; tempt not the severity of his justice : so shalt thou triumph over the grave, escape the bitter pangs of an eternal death, and partake of life, of joy, and of immortality. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 0:3 274. Reader, if anient hopes be thine. All that thy heart desires was mine : Look on my grave, and thou wilt see NN'hat this vain world can do for thee. 275. To speak the almighty power of God The sun impatient Hies, Writes it in flame upon the earth. Proclaims it round the skies. If such conviction to the mind His works alone impart, O let the wisdom of his word Inscribe it on thy heart! — That while thou ponderest o'er his works. And searchest truth divine, Nature may point thee to a God, And Grace may make him thine. 276. Here lie, waiting for the redemption of the body by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the remains of an humble follower of the Redeemer. Sanctified afllictions were the means whereby she was led to know the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and to apply to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world. 94 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 277. Forget not, Reader, midst the proud control Of wealth, and power, and every prosperous plan, Dear as they are to every living soul, That these are mockery to a dying man. 278. Stranger, reflect, while earth is thine abode. Though faultless be thy creed, and pure thy plan. The best thanksgiving ofFer'd up to God Is active kindness to thy fellow-man. 279. If thou wouldst know the peace of God within, And have thy conscience purified from sin, Thy best, thy noblest deeds must worthless fall, And Christ thy Saviour be thy all in all. 280. Wouldst thou be forgiven, in pity forgive, Though bitter thine enemy be ; Look not on his wrath, but remember his end How soon will he moulder like me ! TlIK CHURCHYARD LYRIST. !»"> 28 1 . AmRljin!; world's docav, Christian, pursue thy heavenly way; Leave not unread the sacred word, And ever trust thou in the Lord. Tliou!j,h heedless thousands pass thee by, Yet he will be lor ever nigh : Thou M'ilt find favour in his eyes, Though tens of thousands thee despise. 282. If an innnortality of inexpressible joy be desir- able ; if an eternity of unutterable woe be fearful ; by the one and by the other, I charge thee. Reader, (o give neither sleep to thine eyes, nor slumber to thine eyelids, till thou hast sought His mercy whose justice thou canst not endure. 283. If sorrow, pain, and fears are given. And thou art sore distress'd ; If, as thou look'st on earth and heaven. They both in clouds are dress'd ; Still bend in humble prayer thy knee, And lift thy heart above; For God, though fearful he may be. Is vet a God of love. 9G THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 284. Thei-e are, who on this new-rais'd sod In wantonness will tread ; There are, who think it vain to raise A tribute to the dead. But Nature's powerful voice will plead In every feeling breast, And prompt it to indulge the thought Of those who are at rest. And haply such as sorrow know, And wander forth alone, While bending o'er another's grave Will bear in mind their own. 285. That undisturb'd my dust should sleep, They dug my grave, and dug it deep ; Yet not so deep but I shall hear When Christ my Saviour draweth near. 286. Worship thy God ; do good to all that live ; Bear with thy brother, and his faults forgive : Thus saith the Ruler of the earth and skies,- " I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. {»7 •287. Our lovely floweret drooped and died, to teach us the withering nature of earthly happiness. 288. O Stranger, repine not, whate'er be thy smart. Nor complain of the tenipest rude ; But turn thee, all weary and worn as thou art, To the Giver of every good. He watch'd o'er the dawn of the day of thy birth, And knows all that thy bosom can tell : He does what he will both in heaven and earth. And all that He doth must be well. Repent of the path thou hast erringly trod ; From folly and wickedness flee. And seek, through a Saviour, the mercy of God, And God \\ill have mercy on thee. 289. Bethink thee. Reader, nor unheeding pass Where fellow-mortals in the dust recline ; These monumental stones record, alas! Not only their mortality, but thine. 290. If thou art poor and hast the grace of God ; well mayst thou rejoice; if thou art rich and hast it not, well mayst thou tremble. K 98 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 291. Reader, fix thy wandering heart on that eternal home, Where everlasting pleasures reign, and sorrows never come ; Then w ilt thou upwards turn thy eyes with better hopes in view'. And lightly lean upon the world, lest it should pierce thee through. 292. It is a joyful thing to bow. Amidst the assembled throng. Where God is sought with thanksgiving, And glorified with song. Where hopes of mercy drive away Sin, sorrow, and despair. And long, loud hallelujahs rise And fill the house of prayer. But O, how joyful must it be Through heavenly courts to wing. And bid the note of rapture rise When saints and angels sing ! To praise the high and mighty God, Where seraphim adore, And all is purity, and peace. And pleasure evermore ! THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 09 293. Strancrer, whatever he the desires of thy heart, ponder for a moment over the mouldering dead, and he reminded by the silent monitors around thee of the uncertainty of life. Tliough thou hadst all that the world can give, it could not re- verse the irrevocable sentence — "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." 294. Death may not boldly meet thee face to face. But, haply, like a coward steal upon thee When least expected, giving thee no time To buckle on thine armour. — Be prepar'd. 295. If thou canst feel a friendly glow For one who felt for every woe. This lowly spot demands a tear: Thv friend, — the friend of man lies here. 296. Through life a libertine he rang'd. Untaught, unhumblcd, and unchang'd Whate'er his future state may be, O Lord our God, we leave to thee ! 100 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 297. In prayer and praise, a pilgrim here below, He bore in meek submission every rod, Look'd upward for support in weal and woe. And boldly trusted in the Lord his God. The skies shall roll together wrapp'd in flame ; The world be melted with consuming Are : But they who trust in their Redeemer's name, Untroubled shall survive, and ne'er expire. 298. The duties of friendship and religion occupied her time ; and the pleasures of both constituted her chief delight. 299. * Who seeks a world of brighter bliss Must never fix his heart on this. 300. As thou hast caution'd well thy ruin'd race, Who wandering wide in paths of error trod. And rescued sinners, through redeeming grace. And brought them back from Satan unto God ; — So God will guard thee in the gloomy grave; And when the world involv'd with fire shall be. His arm, omnij)otently strong to save. Shall from the flaming ruin rescue thee. THE CHURCHYARD I.YRIST. 101 301. When sickness robb'd thee of thy bloom, And phing'd us in despair; When death had deck'd thee for the tomb, Thy face was passing fair. But O, liow bright and free from strife Thy baby-brow will be, Encircled with a crown of life And immortality ! 302. Go forward. Christian, on thy heavenly pil- grimage. Though a crown and a crucifix should be placed before thee, let not the one tempt nor the other deter thee from thy path. Tremble not at death, it shall end thy sorrows; fear not the grave, it is the portal of immortality : thy home, thy hea\en is before thee, where He who redeemed thy life from destruction, shall crown thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies. 303. While hardeu'd sinners waste their souls in sishs. And feel with anguish each departing breath. The hundile Christian on his God relies, And cabnly smiles amid the gloom of death. K 3 102 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 304. O fear thou not, Christian, to die; For death is the end of thy woes ; And the sleep of the grave will pass by As a night of refreshing repose. The labourer that rests through the gloom, At the dawn of the day will arise ; And ere long wilt thou spring from the tomb, And be winging thy way to the skies. 305. Many were the days of his pilgrimage ; and his grey hairs reminded us, not only that he had walked long with God on earth, but that he would soon dwell with Him in heaven. 306. Sun, moon, and stars, a glorious scene. In heaven's high concave see ; Thousands of years their beams have been, And thousands yet may be. But moon and stars shall lose their light. The sun in darkness die, When thou shalt live in glory bright And immortality. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 103 307. Should tlie gililcd toys of infancy afford amuse- ment to manhood ^ Are the perishable hauhles of the world fit objects to occupy an immortal soul ? 308. O waste not thy strength in attempting to gain What will merely give ease in a moment of pain. In a storm prove a shelter, or skreen from a blast; But seek that which will " bring a man peace at the last." 309. He doubted not, while this vain world he trod. That he shouUl live beyond the grave w ith God ; And stedfast in that selfsame hope and trust, We here ha\e laid his bodv in the dust. 310. Though setting suns on other graves may shine, On this green sod I'll sit me down and sigh ; For here a father's honour'd bones recline, And here a sainted mother's relics lie. My father, and my mother ! ye are freed ; For faith can follow ye to realms on high : Though dark the grave, its gloomy portals lead To light, and life, and immortality. 104 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 311. When thou hearest that a fellow-mortal has beeu suddenly plunged into eternity, think of the mercy that has spared thee. 312. The moments that compose our lives Unnotic'd glide away. And tens of thousands of them pass With every passing day. Then fail not through thy youth to keep Thy latter end in view : If aught be certain in thy life. Death is as certain too. 313. She was sorely assaulted by the darts of Sin and Death ; but came off more than conqueror. The balm that healed her bleeding bosom came from the wounds of her Redeemer. 314. Not all the wisdom of the good and wise, Can spread a weightier truth before thine eyes. Nor holy angels from above supply More solemn words — ' ' Remember, thou must die !" THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 10.) 315. The angel of death breath'd his message and pass'd, As a cloud for a moment the sun may o'ercast; Then the angel of life tame in splendours array'd, And her soul to its heavenly mansion convey 'd. 310. His \\ as not death hut a translation ; So trlumphd he, through Christ's salvation. 317. Droop not, Christian, on thy pilgrimage : though all thy friends forsake thee, yet is there One who hath promised, " I will never leave thee nor for- sake thee." 318. O God ! that man should heaven despise. And hell's dread torments brave, While ever round his pathway rise Death and a yawning grave ! For this thy plagues abroad are dealt To scatter all his joy ; That what thy mercy will not melt, Thy justice may destroy. 106 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 319. With death the sinner's hoi)e shall cease ; The righteous in his death hath peace. 320. Disease and pain, with lingering smart, Had agoniz'd her throbbing breast; And fears had gather'd in her heart. And clouds and darkness round her press'd. The darkness pass'd, and Mercy's rays Beam'd full on her exulting soul, Till the rapt spirit, fill'd with praise. Sprung forth impatient of control. Thus, when amidst the eastern skies The kindling beams of day are given. The impatient lark is seen to rise And, warbling, wing her way to heaven. 321. And dost thou think, O boasting Death, Thine unexpected blow — The stroke that robb'd him of his breath For ever laid him low ? A conqueror, he shall hail the hour. When vanquish'd thou shalt fly ; Rise o'er the ruins of thy power. And live when thou shalt die. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 107 Disturb (I, the sleeper starts and wakes ; nor knows How long or short has been his s\\ect repose: R'en so w ith us the sleep of death may be A start from time into eternity. 323. Prepare to be forgotten upon earth ! 324. My wife and my children are gone to their rest; They have reach'd their fair home in the land of the bless'd ; And why should I selfishly sigh or rei)ine, When they all are enjoying the Pi'eseuce Divine ? 325. The kindest tribute of respect and love That an assembled world could join to pay, Would ne'er the spirit move enthron'd above. Nor wrap in sweeter sleep the mouldering clay. Yet something is to human nature due; — The death of those we love demands a tear: And none can tell how fervently and true We lov'd the being who lies buried here. 10» THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 326. Thoudi the road to eternal life be hard to the proud; yet He who has said, "I am the way," has made it easy to the humble: walk therein, and Death need not be feared. 327. Reader, as every day and every hour brings you nearer to the great and final change which awaits you, so let each day and hour find you more pre- pared for it. 328. Though my sins were untold as the sands, My Saviour has scatter'd them wide : O look on the palms of his hands. And the rent and the stream at his side. So long as my Saviour shall reign. And the throne of his glory endure ; So long will his promise remain, « And my pardon and peace be secure, 329. Reader, improve thy fleeting hours, and give them to the Lord ; remembering that the most precious portion of thy time is that which is near- est to eternity. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 109 3.K). The year that gave our floweret birth Away had scarcely flown, When, far from this uncertain earth, Our floweret too was gone. An angel niark'd it where it grew, With bright admiring eyes, Pluck'd it in haste, and with it flew. Exulting, to the skies. 331. Her talents and her virtues were formed rather to )>less a narrow circle, than to attract the tran- sitory plaudits of a wide one : no one could know her without love, nor lose her without regret. 332. And dost thou life's enjoyments crave? And do the fears of death appal? The shroud, the mattock, and the grave, Alas! are solemn things to all. To God thy secret sorrows bring : Thy Saviour with thy soul adore ; And he will pluck away their sting, And give thee peace for evermore. L 110 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 333. O Reader! call upon thy God, Wouldst thou be virtuous still ; And read his sacred word, and strive To learn his holy will : For all the virtue that thou hast From God in mercy came ; And thou canst only hope for heaven Through thy Redeemer's name. 334. E'en as I watch'd it in my bower. The blast came by and smote my flower ; Impair'd its beauty with decay. And bore it from me far away. That stroke of death — that blast was given To bear it to the highest heaven. Where it shall bloom again, and wear Bright and unfading beauty there. 335. Though he lived in the midst of every earthly enjoyment, yet his heart was not in these things, for he knew that he had " a better and an endur- ing substance." THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Ill IVM). The flower of the meadow, The leaf on the tree. The rush in the river. Are emblems of me. In freshness and beauty Tliey flourish a day : I bioom'd for a season, Then wither'd away. .337. Art thou oppress'd with worldly care, And dost thou hither come to sigh ? Alas ! the lonely bed of death Can only tell thee thou must die. " Then turn thee humbly to thy God, That He thy earthly griefs may calm. And gently heal thy wounded heart With hallow'd hope and heavenly balm. 338. Together moulder, side by side. An aged pair; in peace they died : Together once more will they rise. To praise their Maker in the skies. 112 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. .339. By wrath and mercy, hope and fear, — By all that human breasts can move,— By faith unfeign'd and dark despair, — By hell below, and heaven above, — I charge thee, strive with all thy soul To leave thy sin, and God adore. Ere death and darkness round thee roll. And whelm thy spirit evermore. 340. To the memory of an aged servant, who, being found faithful in many things on earth, entered with exultation into the joy of her Lord in heaven. 341. Not more than these the proud can boast. The rich, the wise, the brave — A mouldering stone, an epitaph, A green sod, and a grave ! 342. Let no one repine at his atttictions ; for the sharpest thorns are those of our own planting, the heaviest burdens those that we lay upon our- selves. THE CHURCHYARD l.YRIST. 113 343. What though the grave, where now we wait. Be deep, and dark, and desolate ! A voice shall bid the darkness Hee — " Let there be light!" and light shall be. That heavenly voice shall rend the tomb ; Glory shall dissij)ate our gloom; While we from death and darkness fly To light and immortality. 344. In pointing to a Saviour's love This stone has done its part; And if thou still rebellious prove. More stony is thy heart. Reader, adore almighty power, Make God thy hope and trust ; Or tremble at that awful hour That lays thee in the dust. 345. Prepare thee, Reader, for no state Can skreen thee from approaching fate : Here lie the bold and brave : The aged, feeble, and the strong. The timid, beautiful, and young, All hasten to the grave. L 3 114 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Prepare thee, Reader : look on high. That grace may all thy wants supply. And chase thy every fear : A traveller bending 'neath the blast, Thy fourscore years will soon be past. And thou be moulderinc; here. '& 346. O Reader ! didst thou hear the cry — " The soul that sinneth it shall die?" Hast thou transgress'd ? Then quickly flee To Christ: thy Saviour he shall be. 347. When the loud trump shall rend the tomb. And wide proclaim Redemption's story, Together bursting from the gloom, Their hearts again shall meet in glory. 348. There is a dreariness of pain, A pensive pang that thrills the brain. When, gazing on our kindred clay. We see it hourly waste away. Yet mourn'd we not, nor did we weep. What time we saw her fall asleep ; For well we knew her soul would fly To life and immortality. IHE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 115 349. If, Reader, thou rel)ellest against God, thou art an enemy to tliysell"; il' thou forsakest his law, thou wanderest from tliine own peace. 350. The sun adorn'd the eastern sky ; My health was strong, my hopes were high ; But, ere that sun had gain'd the west, I sunk to my eternal rest. Lay hold on heaven then, while you may, For all things earthly pass away ; And youth and beauty, joy and peace. While mortals gaze upon them, cease. 351. If, Reader, thou desirest not the pleasures of heaven in thy life, thou wilt assuredly fear the pains of hell in thy death. 352. The tempest rag'd abroad : in manhood's pride, Smit by the fiery bolt of Heaven, he died : The Almighty struck from the enkindling skies, With his own lightning, his own sacrifice. lid THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 353. What, though thy body death endure ! Bright as the uiorning star Thou yet shalt rise, and be as pure As holy angels are. Yes; thou exultingly shalt spring From this imprisoning sod ; Mount upwards with rejoicing wing, And glorify thy God. 354. Though Death may imprison, he cannot destroy me ; for the word of the Lord hath prophesied that these dry bones shall live. 355. And dost thou, Stranger, come to gaze On sculptur'd records widely spread ? Or verse replete with human praise That vainly deifies the dead ? Alas ! this stone shall only tell That mouldering dust lies here below ; And point thee where archangels dwell. And warn thee from eternal woe. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 117 350. If sin's disease thy soul endure, Thy Saviour only can thee cure. 357. Bethink thee, Reader, so misguided, So careful of thy l)reath : Hast thou for life alone provided ? What wilt thou do in death? 358. This perishable stone records the departure of an imperishable spirit. This earthly monument perpetuates the death of one whose eternal life is registered in heaven. 359. Had I a tongue whose silver sound Could wake creation's ear. Swell the loud note of rapture round. And soothe thy every fear, — Could I entrance the conscious earth With ecstasies unknown, To measureless delights give birth, And make them all thine own, — 118 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Alas! \vliat would their joys avail. What could my powers supply, When strength, and flesh, and heart should fail ? — When thou wert call'd to die? 360. An epitaph is graven here, To warn thee. Reader, death is near : Now, thou art reading mine ; But watch and pray, for in short space Some stranger, standing in thy place. May ponder over thine. 361. Think'st thou that God, in awful judgment-hour. Will pay respect to pageantry and power? Or ask a sinner, pale and trembling thing. If he on earth were conqueror or king? O no: the book — the balances outspread, Will blanch the cheek, and smite the heart with dread ; The proudest arm that sway'd an earthly rod Will fall subdued before the throne of God. Yet fear not. Christian, though thy lot be low. And troubles throng thy pathway; onward go. Though poor on earth, despis'd, and suffering loss, If thou hast fled to thy Redeemer's cross, As sure as thou the Book of Life shalt see. So sure thy name therein inscrib'd shall be. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 110 362. (), if thou ill wandering throuoh scenes of vex- ation, O'er floods of affliction wonldst lilt up tliy lirow, Avoid the strong torrents of earthly temptation. And fly to "the Rock " that is higher than thou. 363 He was one of those men who were designed to throw a lustre around them, to exemplify the ex- cellence of virtue, and to extend the happiness of mankind. This monument will moulder away and be forgotten ; hut the virtue it commemorates is imperishable. 364. Too long they live who live in sin. And long enough who die In early youth, to wing their way. Exulting, to the sky. 365. Happy is the pilgrim who, amid the thorns and briers that obstruct his pathway to a better world, can discover none of his own planting. 120 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 366. In shipwreck he perish'd: the loud howling main Was too strong for a mortal's control ; The flood gather'd round him, he struggled in vain, And the billow pass'd over his soul. The deep caves of ocean shall give up their dead, The soul that has sorrow'd shall rest ; And the storm-beaten spirit by mercy be led To rejoice in the realms of the bless'd. 367. Hark ! the mandate from on high. Grief and joy to sever ! — " Body, to the grave and die ; Spirit, live for ever!" 368. If bliss be only found above, And life be but a span ; Sincerely seek a God of love, And dwell in peace with man. Your duty do, and put your trust In nought beneath the skies; That when your body sinks to dust Your soul aloft may rise. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 1'21 309. My sins were uniiuiuber'd ; luy frailtv and pride As deep as the ocean, as strong as the ti(h' : Hut more stronia tlian the tide, and more deep than the sea, Was tlie iove of the Saviour who sorrow'd for me. Accus'd by my conscience, oppress'd by my care, I was bound with the fetters of grief and despair; But He pitied my bondage, and bade me be free. And lie wrouglit out an endless salvation for me. .370. The clarion of the archangel shall summon them on high : till then they will slund)er side by side, and the whirlwind will not wake them. 371. Think not, my friends, wiio lov'd me best, My sands of life too swiftly run ; But rather bow to God's jjehest, And let his sacred will be done. His \\isd. 450. Fellow-mortal, pilgrim, stranger. While thy footsteps wander free Through this world of sin and danger. Judge not, lest thou judged be. Art thou but a young beginner ? Wouldst thou far from evil flee ? Bear in mind thou art a sinner: Judge not, lest thou judged be. Art thou old ? let no pretences Steel thy bosom ; bend thy knee ; Think upon thine own oflfences : Judge not, lest thou judged be. Heaven and hell are wide asunder, Jo\ or sorrow waits for thee ; O that I could speak in thunder — Judge not, lest thou judged be ! 148 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Young in years, or old and hoary, Still let mercy be thy plea ; Wouldst thou find the realms of glory. Judge not, lest thou judged be. 451. She was at all times resigned to the will of God, and with childlike simplicity acquiesced in His wise dispensations. 452. When Spring was seen, my life was green, For I was blithe and young : When Summer smil'd, my hopes beguil'd. My heart was hale and strong : When Autumn, crown'd with fruits, came round, I entertain'd no fear : There rose, at last, the Wintry blast, And then, they laid me here. 453. I found it a solemn thing to die, even with a hope full of immortality ; to die without that hope must be terrible. 454. Though now unknown midst earthly strife. Her heavenly record is on high : Though she lie dead while death has life, Yet will she live when death shall die. THIi CHURCH YARD LYRIST. 1 19 455. Mourn not the dead : he sleeps in Christ, to rise When heaven's archangel calls him to the skies. He knows no taro ; he hears no stormy blast ; His tears are shed, and all his pains are past. The thorny path no more is trodden now, A crown of |ilory flitters tor his brow: For every hour that here oppress'd his soul Eternal ages of delight shall roll. Mourn not the dead, for holy angels keep Their hallow'd vigils o'er his conch of sleep; Here, while their heavenly hallelujahs rise, They wait the glance of his awakening eyes, That they may raise him from this earthly clod. And spread their wings, and bear him to his God. 456. With mercies crown'd, he pass'd through every stage. From helpless infancy to hoary age. God dwelt with him, while here on earth he trod. And now, in heaven above, he dwells with God. 457. Is beauty on thy face impress'd ? With charms unrivall'd dost thou shine ? Thv slumbering sister once possess'd As fair a form as thine. (J 3 150 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Does genius sparkle in thine eyes, And wit and wisdom iVom thee flow ? Alas ! as witty and as wise Was she who lies below. The treasures of the mind are fair ; And O, how sweet is beauty's bloom ! But yet they cannot chase despair, Nor keep thee from the tomb. Trust thou the Rider of the skies, Then, when thy tomb is riven. Thy frail and mouldering dust shall rise To light and love in heaven. 458. How peaceful is the grave ! They say That angels guard the good man's clay. And day and night their vigils keep Where he reclines in slumber deep. If this be true, with reverence tread The turf that wraps his honour'd head. For angels wave their wings around ; And, Reader, this is holy ground. 459. Reader, without the constant aid of divine grace, we must fall ; but, through that mighty assistance, we shall be more than conquerors. THK CHUUniYAUD LYKIST. l.'il 4(J0. Let others fondly seek the vain reward, The fleeting |)hantoni of this worhl's regard ; Be theirs at every hazard to he great, To live in splcndonr, and to rot in state: Bnt, Christian, tlion with nobler views must rise ! This world thy prison-house, thine home the skies. Leave then the proud to grasp the rod of power. The glittering hauhles of an earthly hour, To bid the prostrate throng in homage bow, And place a diadem upon their brow: Thv crown with brighter gems than theirs shall shine ; Earth is their kingdom, heaven above is thine. 4G1. Live near to God in this world, if thou wouldst dwell with him in that which is to come. 462. O'er the dusty bed reclining Where thine eyes are seal'd in sleep. How shall I re})ress repining? How' shall 1 forbear to weep? Guardian, guide, and kind protector. More to me than tongue can tell, Childhood's stay, and youth's director. Friend and father, fare thee well ! 152 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 463. What are power and dominion, when the sword and the sceptre will be hidden by the gloom of the gra\e, and the diadem covered with the dust of death ? 464. The battle-blast was loudly blown. And standards wav'd in air ; Ambition, fame, and victory. And glory, glitter'd there. The bloody waves of war ran high ; And in that crimson tide, A thousand manly bosoms bled — A thousand brethren died. I fiercely fought; my hand was red With gore : the slaughter'd foe Fell round me, till a stronger arm Subdued, and laid me low. Oppress'd with wounds, 1 linger'd long, Till God subdued my pride, And taught me by his grace to seek A Saviour crucified. I learn'd to hate thee, cruel war : This stone is rais'd in view. That all who gaze upon my grave May learn to hate thee too. THE CHURCHYARD l.YltlST. 1 o:! 4(Vj. Thri)Ugh youth and lioiioiir'd age his litV was spent III deeds of h>ve; and death was only sent To place him nearer Flis almighty throne Whom he so long had serv'd, and serv'd alone. 4m. We could not raise a monument commensurate to his merit, we have therefore erected one in agreement with his modesty. 407. O what is the sum of earthly things? And what thy tleeting breath ? If thou art alone, then read my stone. And ponder awhile on death. Prepare for thine end as thou look'st on the tomi If thou wouldst salvation see, For the fearful fall that will come to all Is certain to come to thee. ) Sickness will come, and the hour will come When hoj)e shall be no more ; Thv friend's last sigh, and the glance of his eye. As he leaves thy chamber-door. Sorrow will come, and pain will come. And steal thy lingering breath ; And darkness profound will gather around, And leave thee alone in death. 154 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Thy shroud will come, and thy coffin will come, And the grave where corruption lies ; And tlie trumpet-blast will be heard at last. And the quick and the dead will arise. Saints will come, and the Judge will come. And as thou hast done ill or well. Thy soul with delight, or in blackest night. Will depart for heaven or hell. 468. Though the root of the oak may delve deep in the ground, Yet the leaf-laden branch will exultingly rise ; Though the dust of our friend in the tomb may be found. Yet his spirit triumphantly soars in the skies. 4(J9. He liv'd in faith; and, trusting in his God, Through rough and thorny paths he meekly trod : He died in peace; and, through redeeming grace. The heaven of heavens is now his dwelling-place. 470. How soon are they forgotten whom the grave has covered ! THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 1 .J."> 471. With cniiis; heart 1 went astiav In paths of sin, and vvander'tl wide, Till Mercy met me in my way. And softly whisper'd, "Jesus died." Ottended at that sudden sound Indiiiiiantly I turn'd aside; But still the voice was heard around. And still it whisper'd, " Jesus died." Then Justice cross'd my path, and stood Erect and stern to (piell my pride; His sjlittering sword was hath'd in blood, Ah, well for me that Jesus died! " Come forth, thou traitor to thy God!" His voice in thunderino- accents cried : Oppress'd, 1 sank upon the sod, And faintly answer'd, "Jesus died." E'en as I faulter'd forth the word, He strove his blushino face to hide, And sheath'd in haste his i)lo()d-stain'd sword, \nd then I shouted, "Jesus died!" 472. She earnestly sought and found grace w ith Jesus, and was happy in the conviction that she should soon see Him face to face in wljom she believed, and rejoiced with joy unspeakable. 150 THP: CHURCHYARn LYRIST. 473. Faith sees a light that gilds the cloud, And dissipates the darkest gloom : It hears a voice that cries aloud Amid the silence of the tomb. The light is Bethlehem's brighter star, To ransom'd sinners freely given ; The voice it echoes from afar, " Fear not to die, thy home is heaven.'' 474. A \o\\ ly follower of the Lord above : While here on earth his soul on heaven was bent ; His words were kindness, and his deeds were love. His spirit humble, and his life well spent : These then, and not this stone, shall be his monument. 475. Though hard it be with meekness to endure The pangs of want and woe, despis'd and poor ; Yet O, how sweet from poverty and pain To be remov'd with God himself to reign ! Ere now thy spirit bless'd has learn'd to know What snares encompass greatness here below ; From heavenly joys on earthly crimes look'd down. And thank'd thy God thou didst not wear a crown. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. lo7 470. He looked forward to heaven, not as the reward of a virtuous life, but as the free gift of God to a pardoned sinner, justified by faith in Jesus Christ. 477. Well may ye weep, proud minions of an hour. Mid mouldering marble and decaying rhymes. That earthly grandeur has so little power To hand her greatness down to future times. Though gorgeous j)yramids in ruin lie, The Christian's hope uninjur'd still remains: His faith is firm ; his record is on high ; His monument the heaven of heavens contains. 478. Be humble and patient, and learn to forgive, For if God in his wrath were severe To mark the transgressions of all that live, O where would the sinner appear? Let the mercy thou needest to others be shewn, Lest God their avenger should be. And when tempests of anger are launch'd from his throne, His lightnings should fall uj)on thee. P 158 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 479. May we who still wander in the wilderness, look forv\ard with holy hope to meet thee in the land of promised rest ! 480. By grief and pain and trouble often tried. He built his monument before he died, More durable by far than sculptur'd stone : His record is a well-spent life alone. 481. Here, wrapp'd in death, frail men have found One common level in the ground : The poor, the rich, the low, the high. In undistinguish'd ruin lie. The tombstone may impart to thee The difference in their past degree. But thou that knowledge ne'er couldst know From the poor mouldering earth below. Dost thou in titles put thy trust? Come, tell me which is noble dust. For I, alas ! when gazing here. Know not the peasant from the peer ; Nor can I, after pondering long. Point out, amidst the faded throng, The master from his meanest slave. They look so like when in the grave. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 109 Dost thou from riches hope to gain Distinction in this durlc domain? First with thy finger learn to trace Past greatness in a faded face. Thy gold, though bright its glittering ray, Will never keep thee from decay : When slumhering 'neath the churchyard stone, The rich and j)oor appear as one. Learn then the truth, whate'er thy trust. That mortals are but mouldering dust; And all, despite their glare or gloom. Shall be forgotten in the tomb. Know too, that none who breathe on earth, Whate'er their riches, power, or birth. But those who trust in Jesus' grace, Shall find in heaven a dwelling-place. 482. The unbeliever may endure to die; the believer alone can rejoice in death. 483. Go raise on high thy monumental bust. And bid thy name in mournful splendour shine, No scul|)tur'd effigy shall mock my dust — No name shall grace the spot where I recline. Though gilded marble o'er thy grave be spread ; Though here I lie beneath this mouldering stone ; Yet, Reader, when a few short years have fled. Thy name and mine shall be alike unknown. 160 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 484. Though his eyes were sealed in bUndness, we believe, O Lord, that his spirit discerned "thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people ; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel." 485. E'en as the child that wanders from his home Through flowery fields and unknown paths to roam, Scar'd by unlook'd-for dangers and alarms In breathless haste seeks his fond parents' arms; So, tried by trouble, her enfranchis'd soul Escap'd exultingly this world's control, Turn'd from the thorny path in sorrow trod. And sought with joy her Saviour and her God. 486. As thou canst neither prolong life, delay death, nor avoid the judgment; so it becomes thee to re- flect on the worm which never dieth, and on the joy which endureth for ever. 487. He was a youthful Christian of bright hope and promise; for his mind was richly endued with hu- man learning, and his soul enlightened and puri- fied by divine grace. THE CHURCHYAUU LYKIST. 101 488. When youth a thousand blessings brought, And every object pleasure gave, How fair the scenes that fancy wrought ! No woiuUm- (hat uiv boyhood thought But lightly on the grave. When manhood came my brow was bound With added cares, but bold and brave ; Alas ! I still was thoughtless found : Then sickness spread his glooms around, And cried, "The grave! — The grave!" At last old age, with stern decree, Drew near, and nought my life could save : As pain and weakness call'd on me. So now I loudly call to thee, The grave ! — The grave ! — ^The grave ! 489. Fourscore were the years of his earthly life. And he wish'd not to pass them again, For he found that the days of a lengthen'd life Are but labour, and sorrow, and pain. The truth of this portion of Scripture he knew. And he lirndy believ'd in the rest, And look'd forward through Christ, who is faith- ful and true, In the ujansions above to be bless'd. P 3 162 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 490. Look round upon this scene of death, And take a a\ ord of warning : Improve the light, nor leave till night The business of the morning. The fool through every passing hour. Beset with sin and sorrow, Puts far away his dying day. Though that may be to-morrow. The wise man dares not waste his time. Lest life and health forsake him ; Where'ei" he goes, full well he knows That death will soon o'ertake him. O wouldst thou from the page of truth, A useful lesson borrow ; Go on thy way, improve to-day. And bless'd shall be to-morrow. 491. Though through this wilderness I wanderd blind, God pour'd the light of truth upon my mind : His glorious Gospel well supplied my need ; His grace my soul from doubt and darkness freed . " Let there be light," he cried, " and there was light," indeed ! THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. lf)3 492. Upheld in gladness and in gloom, Hope, faith, and joy were given ; Sure as her dust is in the tomb. Her soul is gone to heaven. 49.3. When, in contemplating the grave, the rich feel themsehes to be poor ; when the strong are feeble, and the brave tremble; — then the Chris- tian, undismayed, can say, "Though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." 494. I lov'd thee, fond partner, and love was thy due — I lov'd thee, fond partner, and tenderly too : My wish for thy v\elfare was fervent and free. And the heart in my bosom beat warmly for thee. I cannot forget thee, but cling to the scene Where, in days that are faded, thy footprints have been — Where in moments of joy we have wander'd alone, And, with all its fond beatings, thy heart was my own. 164 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. When my spirit is sad, and my bosom oppress'd, Thy faith in thy Saviour gives peace to my breast ; I remember thy love, thine affection for me, And I smile mid my sorrows when thinking of thee. I smile, though my pathway is shrouded with gloom — I smile, though thy dust is consign'd to the tomb ; For 1 gaze on the skies when most bright they appear. As thy heaven and thy home, and I long to be there. 495. With the bright hope of immortality we commit her mortal remains to the tomb, having full faith in the merits of that Redeemer in whom she wholly trusted, and believing, as she believed, in " the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." 496. Think not that earthly bliss can last To bless the happy-hearted : O no ; the grave must first be pass'd Ere joy and pain are parted. For sorrow's tear and rapture's ray On earth are closely mated. And disappointment drives away The dream that hope created. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. KJ.'i 497. This mouldering stone, thou passer-by, Is rais'd to catch thy wandering eye ; To bid thee from thy sins refrain, And tell thee f/odliness is gain. The tenant of this grave below Felt comfort in this world of woe ; He found in peril, grief, and pain, The truth that godliness is gain. If thou wilt fix where troubles roam, In this rude wilderness thy home. Thy hope is lost, thy labour vain : O, Reader, godliness is gain. But if with humble heart, through grace, Thou seek'st a heavenly dwelling-place. Renounce thy fears, thy faith sustain ; Remember, godliness is gain. Thy life is hurrying fast away ; This world will crumble in decay : Again, if heaven thou wouldst obtain, I tell ihee, godliness is gain. 498. O tongue can never tell, nor rhymes impart, The wild idolatry that mov'd my heart, When all I sought for, the wide world around, My conscious breast in one bright being found. 166 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. For she was fair and wise, and every hour I felt the dear delirium of her power, Thrilling the tremulous chords of life along : Her deeds were kindness, tenderness her tongue In vain she strove to lead my thoughts ahove. And blend with wisdom my ungovern'd love ; Her gentle voice rebuk'd my wayward will, I heeded not, and now that voice is still. While here I gaze upon her mouldering stone My heart is strengthen'd by one hope alone, — That, purified by grace, my soul may rise, And trace her glorious pathway to the skies. 499. When sculptur'd monuments, adorn'd with rhymes. Perpetuate woxthless names, and varnish crimes. We blush that lagging time should move so slow To rend their records, and to lay them low : But when the sepulchre is made to shine With honour'd deeds and virtues such as thine, O then it is we heave an honest sigh. That marble is not immortality ! 500. What though they mouldering lie beneath the sod, The dead in Christ shall rise and live with God : If this be true, no Christian need complain — If this be false, all other hopes are vain. THE CHURCHYARD LVRIST. 1(>7 This world must over prove a world of woe, For Christ has toUl us that it wouhl be so ; But He lias promis'd shelter mid the blast, And heavenly joys when earthly woes are pass'd. Press boldly onward then, through flood and tiame, To heaven above, in thy Redeemer's name: Though dark thy pathway, bright shall be its end, Thy judge thy Saviour, and thy God thy friend. 168 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. APPROPRIATE TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE. Rev. ii. 10. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. Psalm Ixxiii. 26. My flesh and my heart faileth : but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. Rev. xiv. 13. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours ; and their works do fol- low them. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 109 Prov, xxvii. 1. Botust not tliyselt' of to-morrow ; Cor tliou kiiow- est not wluit a day may bring" tortli. Rev. XX. 6. Blessed and holy is lie that hath part in the first resnrrection : on such the second death hath no power. Heb. xi. 13. These all died in faith. Rev. xxi. 4. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain. Gen. iii. 19. Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. Q 170 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Eccles. viii. 8. There is no discharge in that war. Pliil. iii. 21. Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, accord- ing to the working whereby he is able even to sub- due all things unto himself. Matt. xxiv. 42. Watch, therefore: for ye know not what hour Your Lord doth come. John V. 28, 29. The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resur- rection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation. THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. 171 1 Sam. XX. 22. The Lord hatli sent thee awav. Prov. xiv. 32. The wicked is driven away in his wickedness: but the righteous hath hope in his death. Cant. ii. 17. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away. Rev. vii. 16, 17. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anv more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. Gen. xxxi. 49, The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another. 172 THE CHURCHYARD LYRIST. Matt. X. 32. Whosoever therefore shall confess lue before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. Zech. i. 5. Where are they? Josh, xxiii. 14. And, behold, this day I am going the way of all the earth : and ye know in all your hearts and in all your souls, that not one thing hath failed of all the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you ; all are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath failed thereof. Job xvi. 19. Behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high. THE CHURCHYAKU LYRIST. 173 1 Sam. XX. 18. And thou slialt he missed. I Sam. XX. 3. As the Lord Hveth, and as thy soul liveth, there is but a step between me and . 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