Poems: With a Sketch of the Life and Experience of Annie R. Smith
Where all was life and glee,

Became a house of mourning, and

Ere long no home for me.

I’ve since formed nearer, dearer ties,

And they too, have been riven.

By these repeated strokes I’ve learned

There’s nothing true but Heaven.

My treasure’s there, my heart is there,

The prize I mean to win;

But know the victory must be gained

O’er every darling sin.

And may refiner’s fire go through

Till I am purified;

Till patience is perfected here,

And all my graces tried.

I’d bear the fiery trial now,

Till holy made and pure,

That I Christ’s image may reflect,

And be in him secure.

A home in Heaven will then be mine,


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