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While cares unnumber’d round me press,
Fain would my spirit find,
Some kind, some gently healing balm,
To ease my anxious mind.
Fondly and eager I pursue
Some fresh delusive bliss;
The airy phantom mocks my grasp,
And flies my fond embrace!
Oh! ’tis in vain the weary mind
Thus seeks for Peace below:
Her sweet abode is never found
Amid the scenes of woe!
But there’s a world to which I haste,
Where woes were never known;
Where Peace and Joy eternal bloom,
Around my Father’s throne!
Still as I tread Life’s rugged path,
And heave the anxious sigh;
My soul shall there her comfort find,
My hopes be fix’d on high!
No more the lab’ring heart shall beat,
With heavy laden sighs;
Nor tears of sad Repentance there,
Swim in the Mourner’s eyes.
There every thought, refin’d from sin,
In harmony shall move;
And all my passions sweetly glow
With warm adoring Love!
With God, my Father, I shall dwell,
And feel his pard’ning grace;
Shall join the saints in sweetest praise
Who see him face to face!
His smile shall raise my drooping soul,
With long-lorn cares opprest;
While as I lean my weary head,
On my Redeemer’s breast!
Oh! Hope Divine! Ye cares begone!
Be hush’d the anguish’d sigh!
All my desires and hopes are lost,
In this--Eternity!
Text: Poems, on Moral and Religious Subjects. London: Printed by C. Stower. Hatton Garden; sold by H. D. Symonds 20, Paternoster-Row; Mrs. Gurney, Holborn; E. Vidler, 349, Strand; Hanwell and Parker, Oxford, and Bacon, Norwich, 1803), pp. 93-95.
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