Funeral of a Youth

The morning flow'rs display their sweets,

And gay their silken leaves unfold,

As careless of the noon-day heats

And fearless of the ev'ning cold.

Nipt by the wind's untimely blast,

Parch'd by the sun's directer ray,

The momentary glories waste,

The short-liv'd beauties die away.

So blooms the human face divine,

When youth its pride and beauty shows;

Fairer than spring the colours shine

And sweeter than the virgin rose.

O worn by slowly rolling years,

Or broke by sickness in a day,

The fading glory disappears,

The short-liv'd beauties die away.

Yet these, new-rising from the tomb,

With lustre brighter far shall shine;

Revive with ever-during bloom,

Safe from diseases and decline.

Let sickness blast and death devour,

If heav'n must recompense our pains;

Perish the grass, and fade the flow'r,

If firm the word of God remains.