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Hanna, Abigail Stanley

"Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland"


Yet there's within each heart a chord
That vibrates with a music tone;
Duty performed brings its reward,
We live not for ourselves alone.
Life has a higher, nobler aim,
A destiny beyond earth's toys;
A richer heritage we claim,
A title to celestial joys.
Then upward look, with firm resolve,
Thy spirit's precious plume to rise;
What though thine earthly house dissolve;
Thou hast a mansion in the skies.


Lines, Written upon the Death of Two Sisters.

What heav'nly music greets mine ear!
What seraph's voice is that I hear,
Breathing in numbers soft and low?
Methinks th' angelic strains I know.
Dearest sister, come away,
There's nought on earth that's worth thy stay;
Then, sister, linger not, but haste
The joys of paradise to taste.
The songs of praise we utter here,
Have ne'er been heard by mortal ear;
Nor mortal eye hath ever seen
"The fields array'd in living green."
The gates of precious stone unfold,
The streets are paved with shining gold;
Pure crystal streams of water flow,
And trees of fadeless verdure grow.
There is no sighing here, nor tears,
No guilty thoughts, no doubts or fears;
But love is pure and never dies,
And songs of endless praise arise.
Then sister, linger not, but come,
Angels await to guard thee home;
Here, in the mansions of the blest,
Here shall thy weary soul find rest.
Sister, I come, thy cheering voice
Bids my whole heart and soul rejoice;
Fain would my ling'ring spirit rise
On wings of Faith beyond the skies.


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