"With such command, and such a promise, Sure our path of duty's plain; Do not then, dear friends, persuade us Longer with _thee_ to remain."
Go then, go! we'll not detain you, We dare not ask your longer stay; And may winds and waves of ocean, Waft you safely on your way.
They who all forsake for Jesus, Father, mother, country, home, Here an hundred fold are promised, And eternal life to come.
Go then, go! but when far distant, Bear us sometimes on your mind; When for others interceding, Forget not those you leave behind.
And when your earthly warfare's ended, And you have laid your armor down, May souls of poor benighted Asia Add _many_ stars to your bright crown.
Just two-and-forty years have passed[5] Since we, a youthful pair, Together at the altar stood, And mutual vows pledged there.
Our lives have been a checkered scene, Since that midsummer's eve; Much good received our hearts to cheer, And much those hearts to grieve.
Children confided to our care, Hath God in kindness given, Of whom five still on earth remain, And two, we trust, in heaven.
How many friends of early days, Have fallen by our side; Shook by some blast, like autumn leaves They withered, drooped, and died.
But still permitted, hand in hand Our journey we pursue; And when we're weary, cheered by glimpse Of "_better land_" in view.
We may not hope in this low world, Much longer to remain, But oh! there's rapture in the thought, That we may meet again.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kings and Queens of England with Other Poems, by Mary Ann H. T. Bigelow