Life and Death (1827)
LIFE AND DEATH
by James M. Nack
Oh! what is life? A painful dream
That death awakes us from —
Death, who however he may seem
In terror cloth’d to some.
Our lot from anguish to redeem
Shall like an angel come,
And clasp us to his icy breast,
Where ev’ry care is lull’d to rest;
Since well that rest we need, Oh! why
Should we thus fearful be to die?
The dark impressions on the heart
Of many a deed bf ill,
The terrors to the grave impart.
From which with shudd’ring thrill
Our guilty minds revolting start.,
And cling to being still;
Though in that being we can find
No fairy spell our souls to bind,
And all our thousand sorrows say,
“Turn from this wretched world away!”
Whatever we may suffer here,
If what we merit all
Were ours, a doom far more severe
Upon our heads would fall;
And when, our spirits to unsphere.
Death sounds the awful call,
We shrink with horror from the world
To come, where on us may be hur’d
A doom deserv’d. Fears of the grave
Our minds but by our guilt enslave.
But Christian, shall such fears invade
The breast of one for whom
A Saviour’s life a ransom paid?
Wilt thou too dread the tomb,
Where the Redeemer’s head was laid
To save thee from the doom
Which none but those who scorn Him meet?
No — Christian, at thy Saviour’s feet
Thy life thou with its crimes canst lay,
With hope’s instead of terror’s sway.
