| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
A VISION'. |
259 |
||
|
|
|||
|
" I've heard the rending word, Farewell, Breathed faintly from the dying bed;
And next, the dismal, old, church bell, Pealing its requiem for the dead.
" 0 mourner! haste thee to be wise, While yet thy moments come and go;
Changing is all beneath the skies, Transient is every scene below!
" Prepare for an immortal clime, For that sweet land where hopes have flown ;
For thou must leave the shore of time, And I shall chime thine exit soon!"
Old Clock, thy voice has something strange ; It speaks of life, and death, and change:— 0 ! while we hear the warning given, May we in time prepare for heaven!
1813.
A VISION.
I cross'd the Atlantic's billowy flood, And in a grove of palm-trees stood,
Upon a burning strand, Where the rich odours wafted by, And the deep azure of the sky,
Bespoke a foreign land. |
|||