They sleep in the grave, and there they will remain
through endless years." He then went on, in strains mournful and
tender, and with all a father's sorrow deplored his loss. I could not
wonder that he wept the tears of anguish and despair if, as he said,
they are to remain in the dark tomb through endless years. The
glorious Resurrection morning was unknown to him. He saw only the
tomb, and considered not that there is One who holds the keys of the
grave, and who will soon burst the icy bars of death and bring forth
the righteous to immortality. Truly that morning has charms for the
Christian. God grant that if I am called to slumber for a while I may
"have part in the first resurrection."--_June_ 22, 1852.
THE MESSENGER BIRD.
Oh, fly away to the better land,
Thou bird of the snowy wing!
Oh, fly away to the blood-washed band,
And hear the songs they sing!
But bear a message from us, O dove,
To that bright and happy throng;
For we have friends whom we dearly love,
Who swell the Conqueror's song.
Oh tell them our hearts are sad and lone,
Our homes not bright as of yore;
For we miss the soft, the soothing tone
Of the friends we loved before.
Oh tell them we sigh for the better land,
For earth has grown sad and chill;
And we long rejoicing with them to stand
On the heights of Zion's hill.
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