The Passing Bell.
Hark! where the Passing Bell, with mournful tone,
Tells that again the tyrant's work is done:
Another victim to stem Fate's decree,
Has met a doom fast hurrying on towards thee!
Prepare to meet it, for no earthly power
May set aside that doom for one brief hour:
Slowly, perchance, but surely, on it comes,
Beckoning creation to their long, last homes!
Yet comes undreaded by the well-schooled soul,
Who holds it harbinger of that blest goal.
The glad abode of Him whose perfect love
Awaits the souls of faithful ones above.
Strong in belief of Him who died to save,
The trusting Christian smiling meets his grave.
Turn, then, Oh! turn to Him who alone hath power to give
An angel's courage when you die, and peace while yet you live.
In meekness bend thy knee; commence the needful task;
Beg heaven's pardon for your sins, while you have strength to ask!
How frequently in marriage, as in the game of "blind man's buff," a totally different person is caught to what was either expected or desired: while in neither case (unfortunately) is the bandage removed until it is too late to repair the error committed.
