Classic Poem

MY S ISTER ,

Accept the minstrel's token,
And preserve his feeble lay,
When the last fond word is spoken,
And thy brother far away.
While life and strength are left him,
And wherever be his lot,
Till memory is bereft him
Thou shalt never be forgot,
When hope's bright torch is lighted,
With devotion from on high,
Or thy fairest prospects blighted,
Under sorrow's frowning sky;
Whatever fate befall thee,
Whatever ills portend,
Whatever fears appal thee,
Thou hast still in him a friend.
He leaves thee, — not in sorrow;
Departs, — but not with pain;
For hope points out the morrow,
When we shall meet again:
And still on God relying,
Our minds may always rest,
That in living or in dying,
His children shall be blest.
Then hear his words of kindness,
And list to wisdom's voice;
Waken'd from nature's blindness,
Pursue thy happy choice:
Oh! better far to languish,
And throw earthly hopes aside,
Than wake to future anguish,
In perdition's endless tide!
Then court not present pleasure,
But duty's calls obey,
And gather up thy treasure
Where it never can decay:
Like the pure blue stream that meets thee,
May thy holy feelings flow;
Like the bright green vale that greets thee,
Be thy love to all below.
Seek first the bliss of heaven,
Thy earthly cares resign:
And all things shall be given
To the heir of grace divine.
Then fear not fortune's arrow,
But place in Him thy trust,
Who seeth not e'en the sparrow
Fall unnoticed to the dust.
In the gift of His affection,
May thy love to Him increase;
And beneath His kind protection,
Mayst thou live a life of peace;
And of all his laws observant,
Mayst thou hear the joyful word,
" Welcome, thou faithful servant,
To the bosom of thy Lord? "