WELL did the holy Prophet say, "Man is a flower and fades as soon; Wakes into birth in early day, And droops and withers ere 'tis noon." All powerful Faith! 'Tis thine to show That here, tho' mortal flowerets die, They're but exotics here below, -- Their native soil's above the sky. Death but transplants; he can't destroy: The immortal plants survive the tomb; In Heaven's parterres of peace and joy They flourish in immortal bloom. All pitying God! How oft we blame The stroke thy righteous will has given, When death in mercy only came To gather infant buds to Heaven! |