1Along my earthly way,

How many clouds are spread!

Seems gathering o'er my head.

2Yet, Father, thou art love:

O hide not from my view!

Appear in mercy through!

3My pathway is not hid;

Thou knowest all my need;

Follow where thou wilt lead.

4Lead me, and then my feet

Shall never, never stray;

Of happiness and day.

5And O from that bright throne,

I shall look back, and see,--

Was the right path for me.

By ancient worthies trod;

Who lived and walked with God.

And in example live;

Still fresh instruction give.

They conquered every foe;

Their crowns of life they owe.

The patterns thou hast given;

That led them safe to heaven.

We seek that promised soil;

While strangers here we toil.

And oft are bathed in tears;

And naught but sin our fears.

We bear the cross he bore;

His temples pierced before.

In ecstasies of love;

Our souls are fixed above.

Refining as we run;

Our heaven is here begun.

Nor death nor danger fear;

What feeble things we are.

And flourish bright and gay;

And fades the grass away.

And fails if one be gone;

Should keep in tune so long.

The God who built us first;

That reared us from the dust!

How swift they pass away!

The beauty of a day.

We fondly call our own;

When straight we find them gone.

With God laid up in store;

More bright than golden ore.

Have scattered here below,

To ample harvests grow.

Sometimes my pensive spirit cheers:

As suddenly it disappears.

Affords a momentary day;

Which, soon as seen, are snatched away.

The opening prospect it revealed;

Of what the darkness had concealed.

The glorious things within the veil;

To live by faith, till light prevail.

Who can prevent or cure?

When most we seem secure.

It soon may be withdrawn;

Before to-morrow's dawn.

And find an easy prey;

Takes wings and flies away.

Produce us often pain;

And all our hopes are vain.

And creatures fade and die;

And fix our hopes on high!

1How swift the torrent rolls,

That bears us to the sea!

To vast eternity!

With all they called their own?

And wealth and honor gone.

3God of our fathers, hear,

Thou everlasting Friend!

Our souls to thee commend.

4Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,

We dwell before thy face.

I see the shadows of the tomb,

And darkness veils my future doom;

With a still trusting heart to thee,

Amid that cold, sad destiny.

Though these frail eyes are dim with tears;

But are not ours the immortal years?

Thus trembling to the joys of time;

Ascend into a purer clime.

Is equal warning given:

Above us is the heaven!

Their bones are in the clay;

Ourselves may be as they.

Of youth's soft cheek decay,

On manhood's middle day.

Halt feebly towards the tomb;

And dreams of days to come?

He lurks in every flower;

Its peril every hour.

Or clouds that roll successive on,

And while we gaze their forms are gone.

The abstract of the historian's page!

The infant's day, the patriarch's age.

The boundless years and ages lie;

And use the moments as they fly;

With wise designs and virtuous deeds;

To share the glory that succeeds.

My trembling soul shall stand,

Great God, at thy command;--

Whose arm alone can save,

The entrance to the grave.

Beneath my sinking head,

Illume my dying bed.

What timorous worms we mortals are!

And yet we dread to enter there.

Fright our approaching souls away;

Fond of our prison and our clay.

My soul should stretch her wings in haste,

Nor feel the terrors as she past.

Feel soft as downy pillows are,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.

To slumber in the arms of death:

E'en till my last expiring breath.

And I shall enter endless rest:

And bless thy name forever blest.

Let childlike patience keep my heart;

Before my spirit hence depart.

Thou must go forth alone,

That mortal hath not known.

To tread the narrow vale;

His comforts shall not fail.

Along the darksome way;

His warm and gladsome ray.

Shall rise amidst the gloom,

The shadows of the tomb.

To meet thy God above:

He is a God of love.

Across the dreary road,

In heaven's serene abode.

Faint and cold this mortal clay,

Light me through the gloomy way;

Usher in eternal day;--

Bid my waiting soul aspire;

To thy praise attune my lyre:

I will join th' immortal choir.

Trusting in thee alone!

Then leave our dying one.

In peace with all mankind,

For pleasures all refined.

Let some kind seraph come,

To our celestial home!

May we but have a view!

We'll boldly venture through.

Thine eye is ever fixed on me;

Encompassed by thy deity.

When, health and hope and comfort flown,

And shade of death, with thee alone:

Uphold me through mine agony,

Exchanged for immortality.

Where flesh and blood have never trod,

Of thee, my Saviour and my God:

Since thou wert always here with me,

And be for evermore with thee.

When sinks a righteous soul to rest;

How gently heaves th' expiring breast!

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,

So dies a wave along the shore.

Where lights and shades alternate dwell;

Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!

Light from its load the spirit flies;

"How blessed the righteous when he dies!"

It melts in deeper gloom;

Descending to the tomb.

Scarce whispers from the tree!

When good men cease to be.

The crimson light is shed!

To mourners round his bed.

The sunset beam is cast!

When loved ones breathe their last.

The vesper star appears!

Whose eyes are dim with tears.

Its glories shall restore;

Shall wake, to close no more.

Take this new treasure to thy trust,

To seek a slumber in thy dust.

Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes

While angels watch the soft repose.

Passed through the grave, and blessed the bed;

The morning break, and pierce the shade.

Attend, O earth, his sovereign word!

Shall then arise to meet the Lord.

For all the pious dead;

And soft their sleeping bed.

How kind their slumbers are!

And freed from every snare.

They're present with the Lord!

End in a large reward.

Happy are the faithful dead,

They from all their toils are freed.

Sorrows past and sins forgiven,--

Hallowed and made meet for heaven.

Ended is the glorious strife;

Death is swallowed up in life.

Hastens homeward to return,

Angels sing, "A child is born!"

The flowers that paint the field,

And boughs and blossoms yield,--

At winter's stormy blast,

A desolated waste.

Anew shall deck the plain;

And flourish green again.

Man sleeps in death's dark gloom,

The slumbers of the tomb.

The bed of peaceful rest,

And mingle with the blessed!

I'll wait Heaven's high decree,

When death shall set me free.

Across the evening sky;

And mortal comforts die.

In vain pale winter brave;

A ransom from the grave.

And genial hours return;

And scorns the mouldering urn.

Or swiftly fades away,

Nor dreads the coming day.

And short the dominion of death and the grave;

Resplendent in glory, to live and to save:

If tears were our birthright, and death were our end;

And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend:

In various graces dressed;

Her verdant, flowery vest.

In all their bright array,

Or pour the blaze of day!

Alone disclaims her power;

When hers are seen no more.

The soul no change shall fear;

Has stamped his image there.

Where saints immortal reign;

And pleasures banish pain.

And never-withering flowers:

This heavenly land from ours.

Stand dressed in living green:

And Jordan rolled between.

Those gloomy doubts that rise,--

With unbeclouded eyes.

And view the landscape o'er,--

Should fright us from the shore.

1How various and how new

Are thy compassions, Lord!

Each night thy truth record.

2Thy goodness, like the sun,

Dawned on our early days,

To form our lips to praise.

3But we expect a day

Still brighter far than this,

To realms of light and bliss.

4Nor shall that radiant day,

So joyfully begun,

Beneath the setting sun.

5How various and how new

Are thy compassions, Lord!

And all thy truth record.

To mourning wanderers given;

'Tis found alone in heaven.

By sins and sorrows driven,

And all is drear--'tis heaven.

The heart no longer riven,--

And all serene in heaven.

And joys supreme are given;

Appears the dawn of heaven.

Name ever dear to me!

In joy, and peace and thee?

And pearly gates behold?

And streets of shining gold.

Nor sin nor sorrow know:

I onward press to you.

Or feel at death dismay?

And realms of endless day.

Around my Saviour stand;

Will join the glorious band.

My soul still pants for thee;

When I thy joys shall see.

1Far from these scenes of night

Unbounded glories rise,

Unknown to mortal eyes.

2No cloud those regions know,

Forever bright and fair;

Can never enter there.

3There night is never known,

Nor sun's faint, sickly ray;

Spreads everlasting day.

4O may this prospect fire

Our hearts with ardent love!

Bear every thought above.