I.
God-beams of mercy, gleam through the dull haze;
Sunlight and soften the dark rocky ways!
Harmony pealeth o'er mountain and plain;
Alien sin-nature chimes not in refrain.
That holier season was nigh at hand
When the sympathies of the soul expand.
From the warmth and light of the fireside glow
I walked abroad o'er the glistening snow.
When a black cloud over my pathway set;
It loometh before my memory yet.
No hearse, no mourners, no tolling of bells
The one sure fate of humanity tells.
A rough-fashioned sleigh with its motley load,
Glideth quickly over the churchyard road.
The rude pine coffin is set on a stone;
Hastily earth from its earth-bed is thrown.
Lowered the dead; heavy shovels ply fast;
A few brief moments—the vision hath passed.