Lamentations selfish.
Selfish to lament.
When fate relentless makes the good man die,
Why flows the bitter tear, why heaves the sigh?
Short is his passage to the realms of rest,
O! then, how selfish ’tis to mourn the blest!
Lamented father! how few can truly feel
The ardent charity, the friendly zeal
That strove in thee, through life, with active power:
And more—that hope, which cheer’d thy parting hour.
To know thee thus, we dry the falling tear,
And ill-timed sorrow were unseemly here:
The mortal yields to God his parting breath;
The Christian’s soul’s great triumph is in death.