POEMS.
113
God bear thee safely on thy journey
While upon the surging sea,
Until thou'rt anchored safe in harbor,
In old Ireland home to thee.
While upon the surging sea,
Until thou'rt anchored safe in harbor,
In old Ireland home to thee.
LINES TO A FRIEND.
Ah, well do I remember
When you and I first met:
It was bitter cold, and winter,
For how can we forget?
It was bitter, bleak, and dreary;
We were following to the grave
A dear kind friend and lovely,—
God gave and He will save,
We were following to the grave
A dear kind friend and lovely,—
God gave and He will save,
They laid her to rest so tenderly,
To sleep in her cold bed,—
While weeping friends then sadly
Left her with the quiet dead.
To sleep in her cold bed,—
While weeping friends then sadly
Left her with the quiet dead.
Only her frail body reposing
Beneath the snow-clad ground,—
Her glorified, beautiful spirit,
We trust her Saviour found.
Beneath the snow-clad ground,—
Her glorified, beautiful spirit,
We trust her Saviour found.
