Till God doth interpose in wondrous love,

On man his Spirit pouring from above.

65. TWO VIEWS OF DEATH.

O death, how dreadful is thy certain doom,

The beautiful all hidden from my eye

In the dark pit, where their stiff bodies lie!

And must I join them in the loathsome tomb?

Yet sure the spring-flow'r does not fail to bloom,

When wintry frosts give way to genial sky.