31. Oh! sinner, stand awhile, and think, Will you sport upon the brink Of everlasting woe? Be not thou a trifler still, Nor pursue thy stubborn will; Folly's path pursue no more, 32. These hillocks green, and mouldering bones, These gloomy tombs, and lettered stones, One admonition here supply, Reader, "be thou prepared to die.” 33. Whoe'er thou art that mournest here, Refrain, nor drop the falling tear: "Weep not for us," The slumbering dead are past relief, Vain are thy prayers, and vain thy grief: Our state is fixed beyond repair, In joys eternal, or in dark despair. In floods of grief, thy sins deplore, INFANCY. 34. O passing stranger, call this not I love to linger near this spot, It is my infant's tomb. And when the sun and moon shall fade, My infant shall arise, In brighter beams than theirs arrayed, 35. I cannot tell what form is his, What looks he weareth now, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns His shining seraph brow. But I know (for God hath told me this,) That he is now at rest, Where other blessed infants be, On their Saviour's loving breast. 36. When lovely infants yield their breath, And sweetly fall asleep in death, Who would on earth prolong their stay, From realms of everlasting day? 37. Mourn not an infant's early doom, 38. See! the bud so rudely torn, 39. Go to thy sleep, my child, 40. Here an infant lies asleep, Now for ever, Lord, with thee. 41. See! how soon the flowers of life decay, 42. Our floweret was transplanted by an angel; the winged messenger of the Almighty gently removed it from the soil wherein it grew, bore it to the regions of immortality, and planted it in the paradise of God. 43. Sweet babes! how transient was your stay, How soon from earth ye passed away; But faith and hope can trace your flight, *His or Her. |