Poems (Douglas)/Lines to the Memory of Rev. Chas. Campbell, D.D.
Lines
TO THE MEMORY OF THE REV. CHARLES CAMPBELL, D.D, LATE VICAR OF NEWRY.
Whilst mourning friends surround thy silent bier,
And many an eye is dimmed by sorrow's tear,
An humble muse sad tribute too would pay,
And to thy mem'ry weave one simple lay.
Yet purer honours deck thy reverend name,
Than minstrel's boldest lyre could breathe to fame;
Thy dear remembrance, 'tis not her's to give
To immortality;—it still must live
Within the bleeding hearts of friends bereft,
Among the weeping flock which thou hast left,
To whom thou pointedst out the path divine—
Religion's footsteps meekly traced by thine!
Yes! faithful did thou plough the gospel field,
The Spirit's two-edged sword with fervour wield,
Fight the good fight of faith, accounting dross
All save the blood-stained banner of the Cross!
'Neath which thou wert when from life's vale removed,
A more than conqueror through Him that loved.
A glorious victor o'er the grave and death,
A bright example by thy works and faith,
Thy memory shall live in sweet record,
Thou true and faithful—sainted of the Lord!
Thy christian memory, to all endeared,
Shall ever be remember'd and revered!
The widows' tears in sorrow may descend;
The fatherless have lost a matchless friend.
Yet, though the poor thy presence deeply miss,
Thine is a change to pure, immortal bliss.
Ah! then, since thou has gained eternal rest,
Twere selfish to regret thy spirit blest.
And many an eye is dimmed by sorrow's tear,
An humble muse sad tribute too would pay,
And to thy mem'ry weave one simple lay.
Yet purer honours deck thy reverend name,
Than minstrel's boldest lyre could breathe to fame;
Thy dear remembrance, 'tis not her's to give
To immortality;—it still must live
Within the bleeding hearts of friends bereft,
Among the weeping flock which thou hast left,
To whom thou pointedst out the path divine—
Religion's footsteps meekly traced by thine!
Yes! faithful did thou plough the gospel field,
The Spirit's two-edged sword with fervour wield,
Fight the good fight of faith, accounting dross
All save the blood-stained banner of the Cross!
'Neath which thou wert when from life's vale removed,
A more than conqueror through Him that loved.
A glorious victor o'er the grave and death,
A bright example by thy works and faith,
Thy memory shall live in sweet record,
Thou true and faithful—sainted of the Lord!
Thy christian memory, to all endeared,
Shall ever be remember'd and revered!
The widows' tears in sorrow may descend;
The fatherless have lost a matchless friend.
Yet, though the poor thy presence deeply miss,
Thine is a change to pure, immortal bliss.
Ah! then, since thou has gained eternal rest,
Twere selfish to regret thy spirit blest.