ON THE DEATH OF HIS SECOND WIFE (1835)

JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY

Her's was the cultur'd and the lucid mind,
The generous heart, the conduct ever kind,
The temper sensitive, yet always mild,
The frank simplicity of nature's child--
Nature unspoiled by fashion or by pride,
And yet subdued by grace and sanctified;
The cheerfulness, devoid of base alloy
That bade her speed her even course with joy,
Yet left full scope thro' her revolving years,
For love's fond grief and pity's softest tears;
The abstinence from self--an humble view
Of all she said, and did, and thought, and knew;
The elder's judgment in the youthful frame,
And love to God and man, a deathless flame.
*****
Her early covenant not vainly made,
Like some fair flower, she blossom'd in the shade,
Till with advancing years affliction came,
And wan disease oppressed her slender frame.
*****
Her virtues grew in sorrow's lingering hour,
Her faith was deepen'd by the Saviour's power,
She rose, replenished with abundant grace,
For larger duties, in a wider space.
Blest was our union; all that life endears
Brightened the current of those rapid years,
Brightened and swelled;--around her bounty flowed,
Her soul, enlarging, with fresh fervour glowed;
He views of truth extending more and more,
As Scripture, daily studied, spread it store.
'Twas hers each rougher wave of life to smooth,
To advise and comfort, elevate and soothe.
Fondly we hoped, when, with no faltering voice
She bade her friends in Jesus Christ rejoice,
Fondly we hoped, her gifts with years would grow
To enlarge, improve, the struggling church below;
But God ordained a higher walk of love,
In boundless regions, with the blest above;
The summons came, the accepted hour was given,
Her sainted spirit smiled and sprang to heaven.