385. He is possessing a heavenly day without night, and life without death. He has exchanged sorrow for joy; a fading cross for an unfading crown. 386. Thine earthly harp is all unstrung, 387. To hope but little from this world 388. 'Tis thine awhile in sleep to lie, Till angels bear thee to the sky, And welcome thee among the bless'd. With reverence deep the pilgrim bends More fervent and sincere the friends Who pour their sorrows over thine. 389. In Death's cold chains they laid me, closely bound My soul, I trust, is safe in yonder skies. 390. Reader, to depend on thine own merits for salvation may sink thee to perdition; to depend on Christ for salvation will raise thee to the highest heaven. 391. If friend or foe, thy comments now refrain; 392. O Thou, whose mercy roves abroad, Still guard with thy protecting hand Engraven deeply on their hearts Let thy commandment be, That there may live within their breast 393. If the memorial of high endowments and humility of mind be grateful; if the record of good actions proceeding from proper motives be a profitable page for humanity to read; then this stone should be imperishable. 394. Whoso enters at this door, 395. He proudly thought that there was no hereafter; and to put an end to the troubles of time, he rashly plunged into the gulph of eternity. 396. What, though to wintry winds the power be given And though the spirit, fled to purer skies, 397. Pilgrim to another world, remember, in the darkest dispensations of Providence, that "what we know not now we shall know hereafter." 398. He came a pilgrim; with a smile And sojourn'd here on earth awhile, He knew that Christ to heaven was gone; 399. He died in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection, through Christ his Saviour. O that every tombstone recorded the heavenly hopes of the dead, rather than the earthly vanities of the living! 400 If it be unseemly to approach the grave of another with unconcern, how awful to draw near thine own with thoughtlessness and folly! 401. Alas! there's a time for the tenant of earth; And short are his pleasures, and brief is his breath: A season of sorrow announces his birth, And the voice of complaining is heard in his death. Ere long, and the dream of thy life will have fled; Its mingled delights and vexations be o'er: The grave will exultingly close o'er the dead, And the eye that now sees thee shall see thee no more. 402. There's nothing seen by human eyes, No thought to mortals lent, That can enable us to grasp Eternity's extent. Whether it prove a joy or grief, Depends on where we go: 403. She was made willing by affliction to leave earth for heaven, and anxious to exchange the society of mortals for the presence of God. |