The Passing Bell.
Hark! where the Passing Bell, with mournful tone,
Tells, that again the tyrant's work is done;
Another victim to stern Fate's decree,
Has met a doom fast hurrying on towards thee!
Prepare to meet it, for no earthly power
May set aside that doom for one brief hour;
Slowly perchance, but surely, on it comes,
Beckoning creation to their long, last homes!
Yet comes undreaded, by the well-schooled soul,
Who holds it harbinger of that blest goal,
The glad abode of Him, whose perfect love,
Awaits the souls of faithful ones above.
Strong in belief of Him who died to save,
The trusting Christian smiling meets his grave.
Turn, then, Oh ! turn to Him, alone hath power to give
An angel's courage when you die, and peace while yet you live:
In meekness bend thy knee, commence the needful task,
Beg heaven's pardon for your sins, while you have strength to ask!
