POEMS.
45
Through the 'valley of the shadow,'
That thy trembling soul alarms,
Thou shalt see the great Physician
Underneath the spreading palms!
And thy feet shall rush to meet Him,
Through the azure of the sky;
Thou shalt know Him from all others
By His look of majesty.
So I bid thee drink the waters
Of the cup I hold to thee,
Great thy joy to hear hereafter,
'Thou hast done it unto Me!'"
That thy trembling soul alarms,
Thou shalt see the great Physician
Underneath the spreading palms!
And thy feet shall rush to meet Him,
Through the azure of the sky;
Thou shalt know Him from all others
By His look of majesty.
So I bid thee drink the waters
Of the cup I hold to thee,
Great thy joy to hear hereafter,
'Thou hast done it unto Me!'"
LAST DAYS.
OH! sorrowful and sweet
Are these last days of summer that do bring
A dim foreboding on their passing wing,
For never more this year will flood the hills
In eddying waves of light—nor touch the rills
With dazzling sunbeam or with lightning glow,
And tender song of birds whose notes still flow,
Most sorrowful and sweet.
Are these last days of summer that do bring
A dim foreboding on their passing wing,
For never more this year will flood the hills
In eddying waves of light—nor touch the rills
With dazzling sunbeam or with lightning glow,
And tender song of birds whose notes still flow,
Most sorrowful and sweet.
Oh! sorrowful and sweet
This murmur from a sea whose rock-bound caves
Look down with horror on the silent graves,
That keep perpetual secret of the souls
That rest below, where ocean grandly rolls.
This murmur from a sea whose rock-bound caves
Look down with horror on the silent graves,
That keep perpetual secret of the souls
That rest below, where ocean grandly rolls.
