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That taught to shun the beaten track of vice,
And love the path of duty, love the way
Of meekness and of mercy, not to prize
That loud applause which captivates the ear
And cheats the heart; but seek to follow Him,
Whose pure and spotless words will lead the soul
To better mansions, and a better life.
These were thy words, O meek and lowly saint!
But thou art taken from me—thou art gone
Far from my sight, and never must my ear
Receive the music of thy voice again.
Much I could mourn that thou art absent now,
For much I need thy counsel and thy love,
And oft I find my wayward footsteps stray
From the blest boundary of that narrow path
Leading to life. But yet an higher pow'r,
A nobler principle, forbids to mourn
That thou art taken from me, since my loss
Is thine eternal gain: for so I trust
That in the realm of joy thou art at rest.
Oh, may I meet thee in the cloudless light
Of that bright world, which no unhallow'd eye
Or mortal passion ever shall pollute.
Were we assur'd this glory would be ours,
How should we bless the hour of our release,
Which seals the lips in silence, dims the eye,
