ON SARAH, Daughter of MR. P. WHITE,
Adieu! dear Sarah till we meet above,
In those pure peaceful realms of light and love;
Grain sown in earth is still its owner's care,
And evening sun's but set to rise more fair.
Firm as the earth thy gospel stands,
My Lord, my hope, my trust;
If I am found in Jesus' hands
My soul can ne'er be lost,
ON MRS. HENRIETTA MARY KNOTT,
With keen affliction's weight, long time oppress'd,
She sunk with christian meekness into rest;
Patient, resign'd, she met her early doom,
And fled to join her infants in the tomb.
Time what an empty vapour 'tis,
And days how swift they are;
Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.
Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;
The moment when our lives begin,
We all begin to die.
Here in the grave, here lies a Cave,
We call a grave a Cave ;
If Cave be grave, and grave be Cave,
Then reader, judge I crave;
Whether doth Cave here lie in grave,
Or grave here lie in Cave?
grave in Cave here buried lie,
"Then grave where is thy victory"?
Go reader, and report here lies a Cave,
Who conquers death and buries his own grave.
KETURAH, Wife of the REV. MR. MITFORD,
Who died, February 26, 1814.
Mitford, when all who view'd thee, saw how gay;
How sweet, how peaceful was thy earthly way,
Mark'd thee tho' blest, to enjoy more bliss to give,
How pleasant said they like the good to live.
And when in calmest slumbers sunk thy breath,
When thy sad husband ask'd, can this be death?
Even friends and sisters 'midst their sorrows cry,-
How pleasant is it like thee, good to die.
ON MAJOR JOHN MISSING'S INFANT.
Happy the babe who, privileged by fate,
To shorter labour and a lighter weight,
Received but yesterday life's fleeting breath,
Ordered to-morrow to return to death.
Our time on earth was short, even as a span,
Our bodies are returned from whence they came;
But our immortal souls through Christ are blest,
And join in concert with the saints at rest.
Too pure, too Heav'nly, upon earth to stay,
An early message summon'd him away ;
From mortal converse summon'd him lo rise,
To mix with kindred angels in the skies.
Resign'd and patient to the last she view'd,
With calm submission her approaching fate,
And now far happier is her life renew'd,
Free from the troubles of a mortal state.
All human things hang on a slender stay,
Those that are strongest soon are snatch'd away.
Beneath this stone, here lie two children dear,
The one at Stoney Middleton-the other here.
Tho' earth to earth is here consign'd,
We still are one in heart;
Those whom the Lord in love has join'd,
Not even death can part.
Consider, O ye thoughtless sons of men,
You're born to die, and none of you knows when ;
You all must pay the debt to nature due,
O beg of God to make your hearts anew;
That when to earth and friends you bid farewell.
You
may with Christ in Heav'n for ever dwell.
In love he liv'd, in peace he died,
His life was ask'd, but God denied.
If ever truth in epitaph was told,
Reader, for truth, this character behold;
To act uprightly was through life his plan,
Tho' poor he liv'd, he died an honest man.
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