Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

132

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

the bitterness, turn away its head, and refuse the draught? Was this the cause why the wary babe only opened its eyes, just looked on the light, and then withdrew into the more inviting regions of undisturbed repose?

Happy voyager! no sooner launched than arrived at the haven. Highly-favored probationer! accepted without being exercised. It was thy peculiar privilege not to feel the slightest of those evils which oppress thy surviving kindred; which frequently fetch groans from the most manly fortitude, or most elevated faith. The arrows of calamity, barbed with anguish, are often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery darts of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are always flying in showers around our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, both these distresses and dangers were alike unknown.

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. Why should you lament that your little ones. are crowned with victory before the sword was drawn, or the conflict begun? Perhaps the Supreme Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adversity impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied with that kind precaution which housed your pleasant plant, and removed into shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roared, before the lightnings flew, before the tempest poured its rage? O, remember, they are not lost, but taken away from the evil to come. (Is. lvii. 1.)

DEATH OF THE FIRST BORN.

WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.

YOUNG mother, he is gone!

His dimpled cheek no more will touch thy breast; No more the music tone

Float from his lips, to thine all fondly pressed; His smile and happy laugh are lost to thee: Earth must his mother and his pillow be.

His was the morning hour,

And he hath passed in beauty from the day,
A bud, not yet a flower,

Torn, in its sweetness, from the parent spray;
The death wind swept him to his soft repose,
As frost in spring time blights the early rose.

Never on earth again

Will his rich accents charm thy listening ear,
Like some Æolian strain,

Breathing at eventide serene and clear;
His voice is choked in dust, and on his eyes
Th' unbroken seal of peace and silence lies.

And from thy yearning heart,

Whose inmost core was warm with love for him,

134

DEATH OF THE FIRST BORN.

A gladness must depart,

And those kind eyes with many tears be dim;
While lovely memories, an unceasing train,
Will turn the raptures of the past to pain.

Yet, mourner, while the day

Rolls like the darkness of a funeral by,
And hope forbids one ray

To stream athwart the grief-discolored sky,
There breaks upon thy sorrow's evening gloom
A trembling lustre from beyond the tomb.

'Tis from the better land!

There, bathed in radiance that around them springs,
Thy loved one's wings expand;

As with the choiring cherubim he sings,
And all the glory of that God can see,
Who said, on earth, to children," Come to me."

Mother, thy child is blessed :

And though his presence may be lost to thee,
And vacant leave thy breast,

And missed a sweet load from thy parent knee,
Though tones familiar from thine ear have passed,
Thou'lt meet thy first born with his Lord at last.

HYMN FOR AN INFANT'S FUNERAL.

REV. LEGH RICHMOND.

HARK! how the angels, as they fly,
Sing through the regions of the sky,
Bearing an infant in their arms,
Securely freed from sin's alarms.

"Welcome, dear babe, to Jesus' breast, Forever there in joy to rest.

Welcome to Jesus' courts above,

To sing thy great Redeemer's love!

"We left the heavens, and flew to earth, To watch thee at thy mortal birth: Obedient to thy Savior's will,

We staid to love and guard thee still.

"We, thy protecting angels, came
To see thee blessed in Jesus' name;
When the baptismal seal was given,
To mark thee, child, an heir of heaven.

"When the resistless call of death
Bade thee resign thy infant breath,
When parents wept, and thou didst smile,
We were thy guardians all the while.

136

AN ANGEL PRESENCE.

"Now, with the lightning's speed, we bear
The child committed to our care;
With anthems such as angels sing,
We fly to bear thee to our King."

Thus sweetly borne, he flies to rest;
We know 'tis well- nay, more, 'tis best.
When we our pilgrim's path have trod,
O, may we find him with our God!

AN ANGEL PRESENCE.

REV. R. C. WATERSTON.

It is noteworthy that children who are taken away by death always remain in the memory of parents as children. Other children grow old, but this one continues in youth. It looks as we last saw it in health. The imagination hears its sweet voice and light step; sees its silken hair and clear bright eyes, all just as they were. Ten and twenty years may go by; the child remains in the memory, as at first, a bright, happy child. and beautiful form moves before us : young and what is such a memory but an angel presence? Certainly next to seeing an angel, is seeing with a parent's heart such a cherished form. Amidst this world of ambition and show, who shall say that this is not a means, under Providence, of subduing and spiritualiz

[ocr errors]

Its

« AnteriorContinuar »