Fare thee well, fare thee well, for thy journey is o'er, And the place that has known thee, shall know thee no more; The eye that has seen thee, shall seek thee in vain,...
Oh! say, shall those ties, now so sacred and dear, That with rainbow hues tint all our wanderings here, Be regarded no more in that heavenly sphere Whose portal's the grave? ...
Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird! Thou art come from the spirits' land: Through the dark pine grove let thy voice be heard, And tell of the shadowy band!
Oh! the world looks glad, for the spring has smiled, And the birds are come with their "wood-notes wild," And the waters leap with a joyous sound, Like freedom's voice when a chain's unbound. ...
Hail, pensile gem, that thus can softly gild The starry coronal of quiet eve! What frost-work fabrics man shall vainly build Ere thou art doomed thy heavenly post to leave! ...
Why should "the little remnant mourn?" Though closed the house of prayer, An aged oak its shelter gave; And surely He was there, Who dwells in house not built with hands, Eternal in the skies;...
The last look is taken, the last word is said Haste away o'er the waves, then, glad tidings to spread; Thy Master has called thee, no longer delay, His work it is glorious, haste, haste thee away....
So soft Time's plumage in life's budding spring, We rarely note the flutter of his wing. The untutored heart, from pain and sadness free, Beats high with hope and joy and ecstasy;...
They have met, they have met! now their pinions unfurl In that city whose pavement is gold, Whose every gate is of one liquid pearl, And her beauty and glory untold; ...
Oh! Time, as it fleets, dooms a joy to decay, From the chaplet of hope steals a blossom away, Throws a cloud o'er the lustre of life's fairy scene, And leaves but a thorn where the rosebud had been....
Ah! be not sad, though adverse winds may blow, Thy patience and thy fortitude to prove; Thy Saviour wears no frown upon his brow, "'Tis but the graver countenance of love." ...
The Lord's portion is his people, Jacob is the lot of his inheritance. He found him in a desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness. He led him about, he instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye. As an eagle st...
Oh, the brow that has never been shaded by care The rosewreath of pleasure may smilingly wear, And the heart that is wholly a stranger to gloom, 'Mid the din of existence may fearlessly bloom;...
I thought those youthful hearts were bleak and bare, That not a germ had ever flourished there, Unless perchance the night-shade of despair, Which blooms amid the sunless wilderness. ...
Great and omnipotent that Power must be, That wings the whirlwind and directs the storm, That, by a strong convulsion, severed thee, And wrought this wondrous chasm in thy form. ...