Classic Poem

Oft in a dark and gloomy vale
The path of life sequester'd lies,
Yet tho' we feel the piercing gale
The beauteous flower will sometimes rise;
Much do we prize that lovely flower
But soon its tender leaves decay,
And much do we lament the hour
Which steals our comforts here away!

No more that precious plant shall bloom,
No more its glowing hue appears!
And tenderness with heartfelt gloom
May bathe the wither'd stalk with tears!
Tho' science boasts its power sublime,
And scorns its weakness to betray —
Yet must it feel the power of time
Which steals our pleasures here away!

But faith of pure celestial mould
Beyond this earthly globe aspires,
The realms of glory to behold
New life it feels and new desires!
I views the scheme by Mercy plann'd,
When danger in possession lay —
And feels 'twas love's almighty hand.
Which snatch'd our idols here away.