POEMS.
11
The last blow is stricken,—
I bow with submission;
All that soul ever struggled with
I have pass'd o'er;
Yet my God will sustain me,
And bear me on bravely,
Until I have pass'd through
To Eternity's shore.
I bow with submission;
All that soul ever struggled with
I have pass'd o'er;
Yet my God will sustain me,
And bear me on bravely,
Until I have pass'd through
To Eternity's shore.
O'er the dark water
I'll take my departure,
And flee for sweet rest
To a quiet retreat,
Thou'lt not forget mother,
Who did so adore thee,
Too late! no kind love
Will her ever more greet.
I'll take my departure,
And flee for sweet rest
To a quiet retreat,
Thou'lt not forget mother,
Who did so adore thee,
Too late! no kind love
Will her ever more greet.
Bear with me kindly,—
I love thee so truly;
My heart weeping tears of blood
O'er my dark way.
I'll think of thee sweetly—
Remember thee kindly,—
Till gone to my Saviour,
For thee ever will pray.
I love thee so truly;
My heart weeping tears of blood
O'er my dark way.
I'll think of thee sweetly—
Remember thee kindly,—
Till gone to my Saviour,
For thee ever will pray.
