The pleasures earth can yield, are naught Whose beauteous waves surround the soul With seas of heavenly bliss. HAPPY are they, and they alone, The sweetness of his yoke they know Which to his faithful servant's heart, A never-fading prize. And when this frail, frail life is o'er, And bids their spirit rise Unto those happy realms above, Prepar'd for those who know his love, Beyond the azure skies. H. H.W. BION. How bountiful and tender is the Lord! Happy the children taught his yoke to bear; Not all the precious things earth may afford, Can with the sweetness of his love compare. TERTIA. |