—It is that childless mourner, who thus clearly, sweetly sings:—
“On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.
O, the transporting rapt’rous scene
That rises to my sight!
Sweet fields array’d in living green,
And rivers of delight.
O’er all those wide extended plains