The wreck of nature, and the common doom

That hourly sweeps her myriads to the tomb?

His mental powers, unfettered by the clod,

Soar o'er time's gulf, and reach the throne of God.

Oh what a privilege it is to know

That death chains not the immortal soul below!

[Pg 28]

Through the dark portals of the grave upborne,

Leaving the care-worn sons of earth to mourn,

On wings of light the new-born spirit flies

To seek a home and kindred in the skies.

Oh what are earthly crowns and earthly bliss,

And pride's delusive dreams, compared with this?

Ambition's laurel, purchased with a flood

Of human tears and stained with kindred blood,

Once gained, converted to a crown of thorns,

Pierces the aching temples it adorns—

Not Sappho's lyre, nor Raphael's deathless art

Can twine the olive round the bleeding heart;

In heaven alone the promised blessing lies,

 Prev. P 28/176 next