The Snow-Drop | Page 3

Sarah S. Mower
soft and fair,?Are made to twine their silken hair,?Or place upon a brow of snow,?Their gold and diamond rings, to show.?Their dainty lips can sip ice-cream,?Or open with convulsive scream,?Whene'er they meet the farmer's cow,?The ox, or steer, which draws the plough.?Should the mechanic's labor cease,?'Twould wound their pride--destroy their peace;?Their flaunting garments, light and frail,?Would quickly fade, wear out and fail.?Soon, soon, they'd come with humbled pride,?To him whom they could once deride,?To ask a shelter from the storm,?And clothes to keep their bodies warm.?Should farmers their rich stores withhold,?Their lily hands would soon grow cold;--?No more their lips would curl with scorn,?At him who grows and brings them corn;---?You'd see them kneeling at his feet,?To beg for something more to eat;?And plead with him their lives to save,?And snatch them from an opening grave.
Now let us, like the little brook?We've heard of in the fable,?Employ our hearts, our heads and hands,?In doing what we're able;?Till all Columbia praise our deeds,?And nations, o'er the waters,?Will tune their harps and chant their song,?For Franklin's sons and daughters.
A HYMN.
COMPOSED FOR A DONATION GATHERING.
The armies of Isr'el round Mount Sinai stood,?And heard, 'midst its thunders, the voice of their God;?All silent and awe-struck they heard the command--?"Bring unto the Lord the first fruits of your land."
These words are as sacred, their import the same--?As when they came pealing through Sinai's dread flame,-- The banner of Jesus should soon be unfurled,?And waving in triumph all over the world.
Salvation's glad tidings! Oh send them abroad!?And tell the poor pagan that there is a God!?Let those who are toiling in dark heathen lands,?Find Christians all ready to strengthen their hands.
Yet let not your gifts and your offerings all roam;--?Remember the servant of Jesus at home;?He's spending his strength and his life in the cause,--?From wells of salvation pure water he draws.
The wells are our Father's, but still they're so deep,?That shepherds are needed to water the sheep;?And shall they thus labor and toil for our good,?And we not supply them with clothing and food?
How can we still hope that our souls are new born,?And muzzle the oxen which tread out the corn!--?Did God care for oxen, or did he say thus,?Designing to give some instruction to us?
St. Paul has explained it and told what to do--?"Who preaches the gospel must live of it too;"?Some say, were we able we'd give with delight;?But think of the widow who cast in her mite!
What though we've no money to pamper our pride,?She kept not a penny for wants unsupplied;?Yet Jesus beheld her and sanction'd the deed,?And promis'd in future to shield her from need.
Cast your bread on the waters; obey the command,--?The Lord will restore it; His promise will stand;?Who give unto these, in the name of the Lord,?A cup of cold water, shall have their reward.
THE MARRIAGE VOWS.
COMPOSED TO BE SUNG ON A WEDDING OCCASION, AUGUST 1ST, 1847
O 'tis an interesting sight,?When youthful hands and hearts unite!?The Lord himself was pleas'd to own?That man should never dwell alone.
A rib he took from Adam's side,?And from it made a blooming bride;?In Eden's bowers he placed the pair,--?Then joined their hands in wedlock there.
The nuptial ties by God were bound,?While angels chanted anthems 'round;?Then mounting on swift pinions sang,?Till heaven's high arch with music rang.
The Lord is present still to hear,--?The words you breathed have reached his ear;?And his recording angel, now,?Is writing down the marriage vow.
Wilt thou, the bridegroom, till the end,?Still prove the fair one's faithful friend,?Who leaves her childhood's happy home,?With thee through future life to roam?
She trusts her fragile bark with thee,--?O steer it well o'er life's rough sea.?And with an undivided heart,?Wilt thou, fair maiden, act thy part?
As pure let thine affections be,?As those white robes now worn by thee;?O keep the sacred holy trust,?Till these fair forms turn back to dust.
On seraph wings then may you soar,?Where friends are never parted more;?There with the Lord may each reside,?And Jesus own you as his bride.
LINES
WRITTEN UPON THE DEATH OF MISS ELLEN N ... OF JAY.
ADDRESSED TO HER RELATIVES.
Ye gaze upon that fair young brow,?Where death's pale shade is resting now;--?Well, well may grief suffuse your eyes,--?Yet let no murm'ring thought arise,?To stain with guilt affection's tear,?Which falls upon the loved one's bier.?Tears are the antidote of grief,--?Kind nature sends them for relief.?While death a prisoner Lazarus kept,?The Son of God stood by and wept;--?And, father, here are tears for thee,?The babe that prattled on thy knee,?And grew in beauty by thy side,?Till warm affection's glowing tide?Gushed from the fountain in thy breast,?To cherish her who made thee blest.?But now, to thee no more appears?This light of thy declining years;?No more her smile brings joy to thee,?When tempest toss'd on life's rough sea.?Fond mother, where's the rosy child?Which once upon thy bosom smiled?--?In her thou
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