Page:Poems Hale.djvu/133

And where comes no grief nor care,
He in bliss shall meet thee there.
          Haste, haste away!

Mother, let the tear be dried,
Shed o'er him, thy spirit's pride.
Shall a mother's love be vain?
Thou shalt see thine own again;
Ye shall meet on that blest shore,
Where earth's partings are no more.
          Haste, haste away!

Weary one, thy weeping cease;
I will bring a sweet release.
Earth has mocked with visions bright:
Gaze on heaven's fadeless light.
Let thy aching heart be stilled;
Brighter hopes shall be fulfilled.
          Haste, haste away!

Christian, fear not thou to die;
Now thy glorious goal is nigh.
Strike the golden harp of joy;
Well may praise its notes employ.
Now thy trial course is done,
Now thy crown of life is won.
          Haste, haste away!

Mortals, I have raised my band,
Pilgrims to a stranger land.
God hath my commission given,
You, His loved, to lead to heaven.