Page:Poems Sherwin.djvu/28

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24
LINES ON THE APPROACH OF DEATH
I know that I must die: the hour
Comes stealing on with solemn pace;
Armed with a firm, resistless power,
Grim death unmasks his hideous face.

The darkness of the grave's long night
Grows deeper still as time steals by,
And fills my trembling soul with fright,—
I feel how awful 'tis to die.

But through this fearful heavy gloom,
A cheering ray of light I see,
Which shews, beyond the dreaded tomb,
Life, peace, and immortality.



LINES.
Oh!do not ask me for a song;
My broken heart cannot obey;—
My faltering voice untuned so long,
Can only chaunt a doleful lay.

For sorrow's hand hath broke my lyre,
And shivered every tuneful string:
No more will mirth its strains inspire,
I cannot—cannot bear to sing.