Tudalen:Yr athrawes o ddifrif.pdf/147

Oddi ar Wicidestun
Ni brawfddarllenwyd y dudalen hon eto

125

MRS. EDMUNDS .

But tutored by religion's gentle sway,

“ Thy will, 0! God, be done,” I now would pray ;
Whate'er my future lot, where'er I

roam ,

May Jesus be my Hope, my Trust, my Home.
THE VANITY OF HUMAN LIFE .

Do we not feel as through the world we go,
The vanity of all things here below ?
We dance down pleasure's gay delusive stream ,
Till we awake, and find it all a dream ;
Nor could we think that such a brilliant wave

Would break so soon, and show an early grave.

Alas! all human hopes are but a breath , —
0 ! God, awake us, lest we wake in death .

The world's a broken pitcher, holds no joys

Substantial while we taste the chalice cloys,
Love's soft enchanting maddening luscious draught,
Is by the sons

pleasure madly quaffed ;

They dream of extacy, but find despair ;
Too late they find true pleasure is not there;

Then melancholy o'er the world they roam ,
Till hating all they sink to their long home.
But there are solid pleasures, which despise

All those whichflow from aught below the skies,
These are the Christian's treasure, which will last
When time shall be no more, and life is past,
When mirth's gay votaries that giddy throng
Are hushed with all their riot dance and song ;

0 ! may we seek in Scripture's sacred page,
Those holy joys which last from age to age.
LINES WRITTEN IN MYDRIM CHURCHYARD, ON

BEING SHOWN THE “ STRANGER'S GRAVE ."
We walked insolemn sympathy around
The sacred habitations of the dead ;

The sun his warm beams cast upon the ground,
But still they reached not to the spirits fled .
We passed the higher tombstones of the great,
And with a sigh we left the flowery beds
Of those whose friends had scatteredtrophies meet

Of frail mortality above their heads.