Reverend John Lind


To the memory of the reverend john lind,

HE'S gone— the good man's gone— and bid adieu.
To every sorrow, every grief and pain;
He's gone— alas! the sail, sad tale is true;
We ne'er shall hear his well known voice again;
Ne'er more behold his smile,
That could each care beguile;
Ne'er more enjoy his converse sweet,
We never, never more shall meet,
No never —from us he is torn,
And left us hopeless, comfortless,
His fate to mourn.

His fate! —O! may we die the glorious death,
Death of the righteous, of the truly just;
O! may we follow in his heavenly path,
And like him, make the God of heaven our trust
Angels admire his fate,
And truly good, and pure in heart,
And though for ever we must part;
Though the sad truth's a bitter pain,
Our heavy loss is his eternal gain.

Our heavy loss, alas! is not yet known,
The keenest, loss pangs of grief are yet to come,
Though sighs mill tears and many a secret moan
Attend him now to his last— silent home,
But Oh! it's wild despair,
To-think we leave him there,
To say farewell for ever; —come away;
Leave him alone; —No, no, we'll stay,
And die with him, and share his grave,
Go with him to his God; —His Saviour
Will us save.

He was; a man of God walk'd in his ways,
And taught the precepts of eternal truth;
Delighied in hi. service, sung his praise;
A great example both to age and youth,
His was the heavenly art
To win the sinners' heart,
Like our Redeemer, meek and mild,
Oh! he could soothe affliction's child;
The bruised reed he never broke;
A Shepherd kind and good, to his
Beloved flock.

His much lov'd Hock —alas they wandering mourn;
Ah! they may weep —and sorely may they sigh,
When to his well known place they fondly turn,
The tears flow fast from many a tender eye;
They hang their heads in gloom,
Their Shepherd's in the tomb,
And melancholy marks each brow;
And! they have no Shepherd now
To lead them where green pastures grow,
And where the quiet waters of salvation flow.

For them he liv'd —their welfare all his care,
Their everlasting peace his chief desire,
This was his morning, noon and evening prayer,
This did him with a holy zeal inspire;
He liv'd their friend, and guide,
And in their service died.
Died that his flock might once again.
Taste heavenly manna, to sustain
Their hungry souls; —That they might feed,
At the rich Gospel feast, Oh! this
Was love indeed.

Who can forget that last, that solemn day
We saw him to the house of God repair,
To a dear Saviour's table lead the way;
Gave us the bread and wine,
Symbols of love divine,
Pray'd that our love might still increase,
And, blessing, bade us go in peace,
His dying blessing then was given;
He meet our friend no more; —until
We meet in heaven.

No more —alas! no more on earth we meet,
We lost him then for ever —parted then;
His glorious course was finished, was complete.
We parted; —yes, —and lost the best of men,
Was that his last adieu?
We scarce believe it true;
Remembrance still presents him here,
Fond memory brings him ever near;
We seem so 'hear his blessed voice,
And with affection view the
Pastor of our choice.

"Scarce for the Righteous man will any die,
Yet for the good” —like him some would have dar'd,
For Oh! who can his sacred place supply?
Oh! had he been a little longer spar'd!
Only a few short years.
We would been spar'd these tears;
And many hearts that now are sad,
Would by his presence been made glad;
Some would have' died —to have made blest;
So many a young; so many an aged breast.

And if we sadly mourn, and if we grieve,
Oh! who can speak their pain in him so dear;
Those near and dear that he was forced to leave,
Their grief’s so great they cannot shed a tear;
For tears would give relief
To their too poignant grief,
Their looks of wild despair reveal,
What in their inmost souls they feel.
A silent sorrow dark and deep,
That wastes their spirits fast, they would
But cannot weep.

Oh! God who giveth, and who takes away,
Look kindly down and soothe the mourner's soul;
Thou art the Widow's friend, the Orphan's stay.
Though o'er them now the waves of misery roll;
Though now their cup o'erflows,
With bitter, bitter woes;
Though now dark clouds do intervene,
Thou soon can change the saddest scene,
And those who going forth now mourn,
With a rich store of joy, shall smiling
Yet return.

Smile did I say; —O! yes, they yet shall smile,
And heavenly pleasures, yet shall be their own;
They only part with him a little while,
They'll meet again where grief and pain's unknown;
They'll meet to part no more
Upon that happy shore,
Where sorrows and where sidings cease,
Where all is love and joy and peace,
Whore bliss abounds, and pleasures pure
That still increase, and shall
Eternally endure.

Vain consolation to the afflicted mind;
Vain consolation to the afflicted mind;
Beneath the burthen nature sinks opprest,
Nor even with hopes of heaven can be resigned;
The heart alas! may break,
Where is he? —Him, again restore,
Affection asks for this, —no more;
Let him return, if but one day,
If but to speak once more;—once more
Farewell to say.

Oh! LIND, we must not —no, we cannot part,
We'll cling to thee, yes. even when hope has fled;
Even "death s dark vale'' shall not; appal the heart;
We'll go with thee among the silent dead,
With thee we'll fear no ill,
For God is with thee still,
And where thou art we'll freely go,
For Oh! thou know'st we’ lov'd thee so,
That even in death with thee we'd join,
Happy to meet a death, so
Truly blest as thine.

Item Information help

  • Item ID
  • Genre
  • Illustrated
  • DCMI Type
    Still Image
  • Extent
    34 cm x 21 cm
  • Title
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