HYMN. IN vain my fancy strives to paint The moment after death; The glories that surround the saints, When yielding up their breath. One single sigh their fetters breaks, We scarce can say, “They’re gone!” Before the willing spirit takes Her mansion near the throne. Faith strives, but all its efforts fail, To trace her in her flight: No eye can pierce within the veil Which hides that world of light. Thus much (and this is all) we know, They are completely blest; Have done with sin, and care, and woe, And with their Saviour rest. On harps of gold they praise his name, His face they always view; Then let us followers be of them, That we may praise him too. Their faith and patience, love and zeal, Should make their memory dear; And, Lord, do thou the prayers fulfil, They offer’d for us here. While they have gain’d, we losers are, We miss them day by day; But thou canst every breach repair, And wipe our tears away. We pray, as in Elisha’s case, When great Elijah went, May double portions of thy grace, To us who stay, be sent. * * * * * * * * * * PRINTED BY WILLIAM SMITH, IRONBRIDGE. FOOTNOTES. {27} I do not mean it to be understood, as though she never spent more than this in a year; but this I must say, it was very seldom that her clothes account exceeded five pounds per year, and in general it was under that sum: she saw it a duty not only to avoid expending much in this way, but was also very careful in the use of her clothes. {30} This refers to a dream which will be published when her life and journals come out. {34} This also has a reference to what will be more fully seen when her life is published.