1 So fades the lovely, blooming flower;
Frail smiling solace of an hour!
So soon our transient comforts fly,
And pleasure only blooms to die.
2 Is there no kind, no lenient art,
To heal the anguish of the heart?
Spirit of grace! be ever nigh;
Thy comforts are not made to die.
3 See gentle patience smile on pain,
Till dying hope revives again;
Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye,
And faith points upward to the sky.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | So fades the lovely, blooming flower |
| Meter: | L. M. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1867 |
| Topic: | Death |
| Notes: | Public Domain. |