Written On The Death Of Jane Flounders Poem by David John Scott

The mysteries of life and death,
Lie hidden from all human ken,
We know it is the vital breath
Of God, that makes us living men.

We also know,
that
breath withdrawn,
And man becomes a lifeless clod,
The soul immortal having gone
Into the presence of its God.

Here knowledge fails and faith appears,
And bids us dry the scalding tear,
And banish all our anxious fears,
Which cluster round the loved ones here.

The deep, dark, cold, remorseless grave
Has closed o'er lovely Jennie's face,
No art, nor skill, nor prayers could save
Her from its terrible embrace.

Home now is dark and desolate,
And friends and schoolmates are in tears,
While strangers wonder at the fate,
Which crushed her in her tender years.

Death never won a brighter prize,
Nor friends a richer treasure lost,
Another star has left our skies,
But heaven is richer at our cost.

We mourn but not in hopeless grief,
In tears we kiss the chast'ning rod,
This sweet reflection brings relief,
That all is good that comes from God.

Through and beyond this scene of gloom,
Faith points the mourner's downcast eyes,
While from the portals of the tomb,
They see their lost loved one arise,

In blooming immortality;
As she comes forth they hear her sing
O! grave, where is thy victory!
O! monster death where is thy sting!