"When for the sons of earth the Saviour paid
That mighty ransom, which has purchased grace,
And rose triumphant from the tomb! The wide,
The boundless universe this day rejoice.
Hark! songs of praise swell every angel voice!
And to commemorate this glorious day,
The dead, who died in Him, are called to rise
From yonder earth, where sleep their forms of clay,
And shape their course to meet Him in the skies.
Behold! the graves are bursting—shadowy hosts
This Easter mom will throng the air:
Alas! for them who have no share
In the redeeming mercy this day boasts!"
I looked—and lo! the shrouded dead
From their dark vaults seemed to have fled;
The mould of many a grave was heaving,
Pale forms their silent tombs were leaving,
And, hovering o'er the ocean's dark blue waves,
The drowned were rising from their sandy graves!
"Spirit!" I cried, "oh, take me to the spot
Where thy beloved brother lies!" A smile
Was his reply. And quick as subtle thought
We passed far o'er the sea, to yonder isle,
And paused above the hallowed ground we sought
'Twas dawn's cool hour: the brilliant sun awhile
Had yet to linger, ere his beams could play
With all the burning power of Tropic day!
I gazed upon the sixteen mounds that pressed
Upon so many noble hearts—at rest.
Ah! side by side the much-mourned sleepers lay![1]
Sleepers no longer! On that morning blest,
They too arose—the new-made graves were rent,
And, slow ascending, all those gallant forms,
That oft had braved the ocean's wildest storms,
In their fresh shrouds their heavenward journey went.
But soon on one dear shade, as by a spell,
My gaze was fixed. His eye upon me fell,
And, for a moment, stopping in his flight
To the eternal realms of joy and light,
He said, "Mother, farewell! Grieve not for me!
My spirit from yon sinful world is free.
Oh! laud His holy name who called me thence,
That wise, that merciful Omnipotence!
But 'watch and pray,'
That in the day
When death shall snatch thee to the grave,
Through Him who hath the power to save,
Thy parted soul may be accepted there!"
He pointed upwards—then was lost in air!
- ↑ Sixteen officers of her Majesty's ship Dauntless, who died in November and December, 1852, of yellow fever, at Barbadoes; and were buried in the churchyard of the chapel of St Matthias, where their graves are placed side by side. They were all fine, promising young men.
