On the Decease of an eminent Christian Missionary in the West Indies.
Hail from Thy battle-field,
A Christian warrior from thy youth,
Who never knew to yield;
The conquering armour here lay down,
For the white robe, the palm, the crown.
Where earth and hell combined
God's Image to defame,
In darkness hold the immortal mind,
In chains the mortal frame;
There didst thou choose thy stormy post,
Strong in the faith,--thyself a host.
Not without patient care,
Sore suffering, day-long toil,
And many a wrestling night of prayer,
Didst thou divide the spoil;
Then ransom'd slaves were made to be
Free from Man's yoke,--from Satan's free.
Now rest upon that bed,
Where once thy Captain lay,
And sanctified it for the dead
In Christ, till His great day;
When they, though worlds around them burn,
With songs to Zion shall return.
In that Jerusalem above,
Where all the saints shall meet;
Loved with an everlasting love,
Around their Saviour's feet!
Oh! there with thine our souls be found
In life's eternal bundle bound.