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42 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE
When the waves across my pathway
Fiercely rush and roar anon, Let me hear, amid the tempest,
That my friend is struggling on.
1847.
REV. L. D. GIBBS.
"Soldier of Christ, well done I Rest from thy loved employ; The battle's fought, the victory won, Enter thy Master's joy."—MoNtgomeRt.
Rest, rest, thou champion of the cross, in peace,
Bedew'd by many a tear; Thy passport has been sign'd—thy quick release
From sublunary care.
O! while thou strik'st the golden lyre above,
Round the eternal throne, We bring a tribute, of sad thoughts inwove,
To the departed one.
And while thou stand'st on the verge of heaven,
Tracing thy shining track, We, we are thinking of the fond ties riven,
And fain would call thee back.
0 selfish love! that would recall the blest
To such a world as ours; Where sighs are mingling with the fitful blast,
And many a storm-cloud lowers. |
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