Classic Poem

ON THE RECOVERY OF A. M. G. FROM A SEVERE ILLNESS .

A Maiden in the arms of death
Unconscious lay; her failing breath
Came fitful, faint, and low:
The damps of death her brow bedew
Her lips and cheeks of ashy hue—
Her pulses sunk and slow.

What prayers for power, what tears were shed
By friends and parents o'er the bed
Where she, their loved one, lay?
O God! to Thee we now resign
Thy precious gift—for she is Thine,
And may no longer stay

Crept o'er her eyes a dim eclipse,
Yet life still hovered on her lips,
 And still they watch and pray;
When Jesus—present, though unseen—
Death and the Maiden passed between,
 And motioned him away.

“Maiden, I say to thee, arise!”
He spoke, and light came to her eyes,
 And life resumed its sway.
“Not yet,” she said, “I enter heaven;
Me, to your prayers God has given
 With you awhile to stay.”

With tears of joy and looks of love
Around the bed the parents move,
 And gaze into her eyes;
For life renewed and hope restored,
They praise, adore, and bless the Lord:
 Their thanks to Heaven arise.

And now the Maiden lives to prove,
By works of faith and deeds of love,
 Her love to Him who gave
Himself for her; while in the bloom
Of youth for her dispelled the gloom,
 And closed the opening grave.