WIDOWHOOD.

WRITTEN IN THE ISLAND OF ANTIGUA SHORTLY AFTER DR. GRAHAM'S DEATH.

PART I.

Hail; thou state of widowhood, State of those that mourn to G.o.d; Who, from earthly comforts torn, Only live to pray and mourn.

Meanest of the number, I For my dear companion sigh; Patiently my loss deplore, Mourn for one that mourns no more.

Me my consort hath outrun, Out of sight he quite has gone; He his course has finished here, First come to the sepulchre.

Following on with earnest haste, Till my mourning days are past, I my partner's steps pursue, I shall soon be happy too;

Find the ease for which I pant, Gain the only good I want; Quietly lay down my head, Sink into my earthy bed.

There my flesh shall rest in hope, Till the quickened dust mount up, When to glorious life I'll rise, To meet my husband in the skies.

PART II.

Happy they who trust in Jesus, Jesus turns our loss to gain; Still his balmy mercies ease us, Sweeten all our grief and pain.

When he calls our friends t' inherit All the glories of the blest, He a.s.sures the widowed spirit, "Thou shalt quickly be at rest."

Though my flesh and spirit languish, Let me not too much complain; Sure at last t' outlive my anguish, Sure to find my friend again.

Ransomed from a world of sorrow, He to-day is taken home; I shall be released to-morrow-- Come, my dear Redeemer, come.

From my sanctified distresses, Now, or when thou wilt, receive; Grant with him in thine embraces, After all my deaths, to live.

PART III.

Hail, holy, holy, holy Lord, Mysterious Three in One!

For ever be thy name adored, Thy will for ever done.

For this alone on earth I wait, To glorify my G.o.d; And suffer, since thou will'st, the state Of sacred widowhood.

And may I, in thy strength, fulfil My awful character; And prove thine acceptable will, And do thy pleasure here;

The children to thyself restore, Whom thou to me hast given; And rule my house with all my power, And train them up for heaven.

Be this my hospitable care: The stranger to receive, The burden of thy church to bear, And all their wants relieve;

My labor of unwearied love With pleasure to repeat, My faith unto thy saints to prove, And gladly wash their feet.

The servant of thy servants bless With active earnest zeal; And every work of righteousness I shall with joy fulfil.

LINES,

Occasioned by viewing the portrait of Mrs. Graham, prefixed to the first edition of her memoir. By the late Mrs. Margaret Brown, daughter of Rev. Dr. John Mason.

While in this faded form I trace The features which I loved so well, Remembrance brings each mental grace Within its hallowed shrine to dwell.

For I have seen that darkened eye In all the fire of genius roll, With eagle-gaze explore the sky, Or with a keener glance descry The secret workings of the soul.

And I have seen this pallid cheek Suffused with feeling's richest glow; And virtue's brightest halo deck With sacred charms these locks of snow.

And on these lips in silence closed, With rapt attention oft I hung, And heard those wondrous truths disclosed Which sages taught or seraphs sung.

And I have known this withered hand Extended wide the poor to bless; And this contracted breast expand With generous schemes to aid distress.

And now, though far removed from earth And every scene of mortal pain, This dear memorial of her worth Shall many a drooping heart sustain.

Still shall it dry the widow's tear, The hapless orphan's want supply, Guide to a blessed asylum here, And point to happier realms on high.

My father's friend--how poor the praise, By his unworthy offspring given, Who thus records, in humble lays, What angels registered in heaven.

FRANKFORT, Kentucky, August, 1816.

One hundred dollars was paid by John W. Hamersley, Esq. of New York, towards perpetuating this volume.