William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
To the Memory of HarrisonU
Let sound your notes of wo—
A Christian soul has gone to God—
A Christian corse must to its burial go.
The dust unto its dust,
The spirit to its native light,
To us, the blessed memory of the just.
That, by the gathering crowd,
Thou, as their chosen one, wert borne
Hither, with sound of joy, and welcome loud.
Thou camest, on mission proud;
It is fulfill’d: lie down to rest
With quiet heart in an untarnish’d shroud.
With word and look serene;
Thou bowest low thy hoary head,
And glidest, as a shadow, from the scene.
On that triumphal day,
A milk-white steed beneath thee bent—
Paler is that which bears thee now away.
Man is but half a slave,
But half to sin and suffering born,
The tide of sorrow breaks upon the grave.
On thy green bed shall lie,
Methinks ’twill be a sweeter one
Than purple couch or regal canopy.
The weight of weary days:
Sleepless anxieties, unshared,
And lonely wanderings in life’s thorniest ways.
Nor lived to see it fail;
Nor struggled with man’s evil mood,
Till thy soul fainted in its prison frail.
Breathes vain defiance now;
We hear it, dimly, from afar,
But Peace has set her seal upon thy brow.
Must bind us, if God will:
The words of truth thou wouldst have spoken
His voice shall speak, and every heart be still.
His signet is impress’d;
Turn we from vain imaginings,
For so He giveth His beloved rest.