[From Mona's Isle, 1844]


ANOTHER year hath pass’d the verge of Time,
Fraught with the deeds of man in every clime,
To be reserved until that solemn day
When he his mighty circling rounds shall stay,
That all that is obscured from mortal sight
May be beheld in a seraphic light,
After mortality gives up his prey,
And darkness yields to an eternal day!
Vain mortal man ! what shall be then thy doom
When thou art summon’d from the silent tomb,
To give account of what thou didst on earth
Back from that morn unto creation’s birth?
In that dread day, where can the sinner fly
To hide himself from the Omniscient eye?
For earth, and sea, and air shall yield their store
At that dread sound, proclaiming Time no more!
Eternity shall wrap the universe,
And day and night their tale no more rehearse!
Then, brother mortal, why shouldst thou oppress
Thy fellow-trav'ller through this wilderness ?
Why should a sordid wish break nature’s tie
And dry the tear of pity in thine eye?
How canst thou prize the gain of earthly dross,
Which may but end in mis’ry and remorse,
And shut thine ear unto thy brother’s cry
When pinch’d for food, e’en nature to supply?
Think’st thou, th~at He who form’d the earth and sky
Does not thy inhumanity descry?
And though his sparing hand prevents the stroke,
Yet His kind mercy thou mayst soon provoke
To pour His vengeance on thy guilty head,
And strew with prickly thorns thy dying bed!
In that dread day, what will thy gold avail
When Death, in all his terrors, shall prevail
In dragging thee from off this stage of life,
While yet thy soul with carnal thoughts is rife?
No longer let the love of earthly gain
Harden thy heart to give thy brother pain;
But rather ease his burden on the road
Through life’s rough journey to that dark abode
Where all must dwell, though different climes they roam,
Before they meet at that eternal home.
Then why should man, in this short span of life,
So waste his time in misery and strife
In gaining lucre, which he can’t retain,
As if he here were ever to remain?
Ah ! stifle not the spark of heavenly love,
It is a voice that warns thee from above
To tread the paths of sweet humanity,
And shun the road to sin and vanity!


Back index next

Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received The Editor
HTML Transcription © F.Coakley , 2000