“I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplication."
—Psa. 116:1.
“These are thy wonders, Lord of Love."—GEORGE HERBERT.
SWEET friendships of my early youth,
That once I deent'd so full of truth,
They never could decay—
Few now survive,—too frail to last,
With other dreams, their glow hath pass'd
With sunny youth away.
Not so the sweet, the beauteous flower
Of filial love! Time hath not power,
O'er aught so true and fair:
My mother! fresh as when at first
Within my heart that blossom burst,
It blooms unfading there.
I loved thee then; I love thee still;
Nor shall eternal ages chill
The pure and holy flame.
Ah no! such true devoted love
Will still live on in realms above,
More purely, yet the same.
The same sweet love, though more intense,
More holy far, beyond the sense
Of holiest minds below;
Our love, begun on earth, will rise
To heights of bliss in yonder skies,
That mortals cannot know.
Sweet happy task!-to me 'twas given
To point thee to that home in heav'n,
Where thou art dwelling now.
And then again, 'twas mine to bring
Some drops from life's eternal spring,
To cool thy dying brow.
Dear listener! as thy spirit heard,
From day to day, the quick'ning word
Of pure unmingled truth;
'Twas sweet to watch thy soul grow bright
And beauteous with celestial light,
And everlasting youth.
The glories of thy blest abode,
Where all is bright and fill'd with God,
I may not now conceive;
But that thy happy soul is blest,
With pure, eternal, heav'nly rest,
I may, I do believe.
The God of love himself is there,
His Spirit fills the glowing air
Of that celestial shore;
And oh! 'twill be supremely sweet,
Beneath his gracious eye to meet,
And love thee evermore.