Thee do I view in yonder flying cloud?
Or do I hear thee in the hollow wind?
Or dost thou still sleep in thy sable shroud,
Where the dread judgment-trumpet thee shall find?
O till that day ye pitying angels come,
Shield with your wings, and sing around his tomb.
But if advanced to Heaven's empyreal height.
Above with glorious martyrVl saints to live20
Midst heavenly hymns, and harps and visions bright
And all the joys a smiling God can give;
O be my watchful guardian angel still,
Save me from slavish vice, from folly, and from ill.
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