Death

It is appointed unto men once to die Hebrews ix 27

The glorious, brilliant orb of day,
Now sinking in the west;
And casting forth his last pale ray,
Proclaims the hour of rest.
The darker tints of sober grey,
O’erspreads the evening sky;
And fading nature seems to say,
Prepare—for thou must die!
Yon meek eyed majesty of night,
Now casting round her smiles,
In shedding forth her feebler light,
The darkness thus beguiles;
Reflecting down upon our earth
Her pale and waning eye,
Reminds me that I am but dust,
That I must surely die!
Those brilliant gems, that stud the paths
Of heaven’s pure expanse,
Can raise my heart above this earth,
And all its sordid wants;
While each revolving in its orb,
Illumes yon azure sky,
Says, turn thy thoughts heavenward,
Remember! thou must die.
And when night’s sable clouds are drawn,
These thoughts will still prevail,
That I am but an earthly worm,
Most sinful weak and frail;
Though frail I am my hopes ascend,
Far far beyond the sky,
I trust my Saviour and my friend!
Will teach me how to die.