So Fades the Lovely, Blooming Flower

So fades the love­ly

bloom­ing flow­er

Frail

smil­ing so­lace of an hour!

So soon our tran­si­ent com­forts fly

And plea­sure on­ly blooms to die!

To cer­tain trou­ble we are born

Hope to re­joice

but sure to mourn.

Ah wretch­ed ef­fort! sad re­lief

To plead ne­ces­si­ty of grief!

Is there no kind

no le­ni­ent art

To heal the ang­uish of the heart?

To ease the hea­vy load of care

Which na­ture must

but can­not bear?

Can rea­son’s dic­tates be ob­eyed?

Too weak

alas

her strong­est aid!

O let re­li­gion then be nigh

Her com­forts were not made to die.

Her pow­er­ful aid sup­ports the soul

And na­ture owns her kind con­trol;

While she un­folds the sac­red page

Our fierc­est griefs re­sign their rage.

Then gen­tle pa­tience smiles on pain

And dy­ing hope re­vives again;

Hope wipes the tear from sor­row’s eye

And faith points up­ward to the sky.

The pro­mise guides her ar­dent flight

And joys un­known to sense in­vite

Those bliss­ful re­gions to ex­plore

Where plea­sure blooms

to fade no more.