The worlds that fill the fields of space,
Shall wither where they long have roll'd,
But thou shalt keep thy deathless place--
Years cannot make thee old;
From star to star, with youthful brow,
Thou'lt hold thy fair and joyful road:
Eternity's thy mansion--thou
The spirit of that bright abode!
Death's hand shall never make thee bow,
Child of the living God!
When Time decays, thou'lt lift thy wing
And shake the dust away,
And, like a wandering sunbeam, spring
Into the cloudless day;
Borne on the Eternal's mighty arm,
Thou'lt move o'er nature's goal;
Death will expire--creation's form
Melt 'mid the thunder's roll--
But the dark angel of the storm,
Will shield the shrinking soul!