THE FEAR OF DEATH.

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BY MARY L. LAWSON.

———

It is not that I shrink to yield

My soul to God, whose claim is just;

I know my spirit is his own,

And that this human frame is dust;

To Him my higher powers I owe,

The light of mind, the faith of love;

Too mean the service of a life

My ceaseless gratitude to prove;

But still I pause in mortal fear,

For life is sweet—and death is drear.

The ties that bound me close to earth

With deep affection’s tender chain,

Were severed by his sovereign will,

And tears and agony were vain;

And blighted hope and withering care

Their shadows o’er my soul have cast;

And sunny dreams, that fancy wove

Of rainbow hues, too soon have past;

But still I pause in mortal fear,

And life is sweet—and death is drear.

For memory brings to me again

The dear ones that are laid to rest,

And scenes ’mid which they bore a part

In lovely visions haunt my breast;

Their looks, their words, their beaming smiles,

Soft tears from out my eyelids press;

They’re with me through the waking day,

My nightly slumbers gently bless;

And still I pause in mortal fear,

For life is sweet—and death is drear.

My faithful friends whose gentle deeds

Of kindness words were poor to tell;

My daily walks, my favorite flowers,

The page where genius throws its spell,

And Nature with its varied hues,

Where spring and summer brightly glows,

By many a fine and subtle link

Of custom round my being grows;

And still I pause in mortal fear,

For life is sweet—and death is drear.

Kind Lord! subdue this trembling dread,

My spirit nerve with firmer zeal,

Death is the portal of our life,

Its promised good Thou wilt reveal;

And in thy word I read with joy

The blessings that believers share,

And peace within my bosom steals,

The heavenly peace that springs from prayer;

No more I pause in mortal fear,

The grave is sweet when Thou art near.