Life.
13
O God! help me to choose the right,
And ever ready be;
So when I see life's darksome night,
'Twill bring no fears for me.
And when my soul is poised to fly
Over the sea of death;
Oh! send bright angels from on high
To bear me from the earth.
And ever ready be;
So when I see life's darksome night,
'Twill bring no fears for me.
And when my soul is poised to fly
Over the sea of death;
Oh! send bright angels from on high
To bear me from the earth.
LIFE.
Oh! what is life, but a short breath,
The heavings of a breast,
A soul's strange dream while on the earth,
A vague and brief unrest?
The heavings of a breast,
A soul's strange dream while on the earth,
A vague and brief unrest?
Each year is a tidal wave,
Hastening us o'er life's sea;
A warning voice from the cold grave,
Where all is mystery.
Hastening us o'er life's sea;
A warning voice from the cold grave,
Where all is mystery.
E'en like a harp carelessly strung,
Life sounds no perfect chord.
The sweetest strains that can be sung,
Are marred with harsh discords.
Life sounds no perfect chord.
The sweetest strains that can be sung,
Are marred with harsh discords.
If days, the notes of life's great song,
Could all be played aright,
Oh! then the world as one vast throng
Would listen at its might.
Could all be played aright,
Oh! then the world as one vast throng
Would listen at its might.
