Though the fairest plant in thy home's sweet bower
Is fading and failing, a frost-touched flower;
Though the loved and cherished of long ago
Treads earth with a faltering step and slow,
And soon, alas! the sweet memory
Of his love will alone be left to thee, —
Yet faint not, O disciplined one! by the way,
But be thy Lord's promise forever thy stay.

He has pledged thee his strength when thine own should fail;
He will shelter thy cot from the rising gale;
He'll be thy Rock in Life's sultriest noon,
And thy kind Protector when all alone.
Then fear thou not, though the billows roar
Like the storm-dashed surf on an island shore;
Fear not in his hand to place thine own,
Though thou treadest a path before unknown.

He will lead thee onward and upward still,
If thy heart says " Amen " to his holy will,
And the flames of thy fiercest furnace-fire
Will only help thee to mount up higher.
Though the angel Death shall invade thy bower,
And shall bear away thy loveliest flower,
Be thou calm; for he takes it to bloom on high,
Where the glorious blossoms ne'er shall die.

Oh! fear not to drink of the cup He bestows,
Who hath tasted the dregs of the chalice of woes.
In thy season of grief, as in his dark hour,
Lo! angels shall minister gently, with power
Thy grief to assuage, while the promises come
Reminding of heaven, that sorrowless home;
And thy spirit, exulting, at last shall arise,
To meet thy lost dear one again in the skies.