Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/121

Come with the gospel's balm, and like the dew
Of Hermon, to the fainting lily—cheer
The sufferer's spirit.
                                  When the brow is blanched,
And the cold, quivering lip doth feebly spurn
Time's last poor water-drop—then be thou near;
Yea, when the dull ear to affection's tone
No longer vibrates, lift thy fervent prayer
And to the waiting angels' outspread wing,
And to the Everlasting Shepherd's arms,
Commend the parting soul.
                                             When the pale clay
That love hath worshipped, to the open grave
In funeral vestments cometh, stand thou there,
And by the might of thine ascended Lord
Adjure the pit to render back its trust
A glorious body when the archangel's trump
Heralds eternity.
                              So guide thy flock
Faithful in all their need, whether their path
By crystal streams shall wind, with flowers besprent,
Or sad through withering pastures, where the vine
Yieldeth no fruit, and winter's stormy wrath
Doth desolate the fold, so guide them still,
And girded by their blessings and their prayers,
Go on in priestly sanctity to God.