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The Aged Christian

( Originally Published 1868 )


THE spring and summer time of life have long since pass'd away,
And golden autumn, with its leaves of sadness and decay,
Has come and gone ; and winter shrouds each ovely scene in goom,
And bids me mark across my path the shadows of the tomb.

Mine eye is growing dim with age, my step is feeble now,
And deeper lines of thought and care are graven on my brow ;
But shall I murmur as I trace the rapid flight of hours,
Or grasp with trembling eagerness earth"s fair yet fading flowers ?

Oh no ! a bright and happy home awaiteth me above,
And my ardent spirit ongs to dwell where all is joy and love.
Does the wave-tossed mariner regret when he sees the haven near
Where his shattered bark shall safely rest, nor storm nor danger fear ?

Will the toil-worn labourer sigh because his weary task must cose,
And evening's peaceful shades afford him calm and. sweet repose ?
Or does the child with sorrow mark each swift revolving mile
Which bears him to his cherished home and loving father's smile ?

And shall the Christian grieve because some gentle signs are given
That he is nearer to the bliss, the perfect bliss of heaven ?
That every moment coser brings that mansion fair and bright,
Prepared for him with tender love in realms of pure delight ?

Oh ! with such brilliant hopes as these how can my heart repine,
Although I feel my vigour fade, my wonted strength decline ?
Rather with gladness would I hail these messages of love,
Which tell me I shall quickly join the white-robed throng above.

My pilgrimage will soon be o"er, my arduous race be run,
And the bright crown of victory triumphant faith have won ;
No sorrow clouds the land of rest, hush'd is the thought of pain :
Oh ! if for me to live is Christ, to die indeed is gain !

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