SACRED SONG.
“Where are now the blooming bowers.”
Where are now the blooming bowers
That I saw in early May?
Where are all those fairest flowers
That were soon to pass away?
And the Loves my bosom nourished,
And the Joys that still came on?
Like those flowers, once they flourished,
Like those flowers, they are gone.
Fancy now no more shall borrow
Beams of beauty from the skies;
Hope no more, to soothe my sorrow,
Whisper, “brighter suns shall rise.”
Yet one thought my soul shall cherish,
For the word of God is sure,
And the heavens and earth shall perish,
But his mercy shall endure.