Lines Poem by Janet Hamilton

Composed at the request of a very dear Friend, who was suffering from heavy grief and anxiety of mind.

O earth! abode of grief and sin,
Whose miseries with life begin,
And follow us till lodged within
The grave.


Oppress'd with woe, consumed by care,
Thy pleasures I did never share;
Now all my earthly wishes are
A grave.


Oft have I view'd with longing eyes
Yon hallow'd spot where tombstones rise,
And bless'd the place which thus supplies
A grave.


Pleasant to me is death's dark gloom;
Ye peaceful tenants of the tomb,
I long with you to make my home
The grave.


I know corruption and the worm,
The cold decaying ghastly form,
Are thine-but then, no strife, no storm,
Calm grave!


Oh! I am weary-I would rest
Within thy cold and silent breast,
Nor rise till called to join the blest,
O grave!


Farewell, vain world, not worth a tear;
Jesus alone my soul holds dear;
Possessed of Him I cannot fear
The grave.