I'M WEARY OF EARTH

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Apr 30, 1857

I'M WEARY OF EARTH.

THERE have been moments when I looked Upon this earth as beautiful, With flowers gay, and sparkling rills, That filled my heart with sweet delight. But as I pressed upon my lips The cup that I had fondly wished To find with pleasure filled, a tear Has started in mine eye: a sigh A wailing sigh, escaped my lips, That I had drank of sorrow's cup, And drained it to the very dregs.

Fair visions floated o'er my mind; The earth I thought was full of bliss. And pleasant vales, and shady groves, And fields so green; all covered o'er With flowers I did not dream could fade, With rapture filled my childish heart, And with a burst of joy I gazed On things I dreamed so beautiful, Till heaven and earth seemed interwov'n; And love and beauty on each brow It seemed by God's own breath were stamped.

Imagined ne'er a cloud of care, So soon would settle on my soul, To hide the cheering gleam of hope That I had vainly cherished. And As I beheld the leaves all green, A breeze that shook the forest trees, Whispered to me of happiness. And Oh! believe it not; the boon I sought to find, where sorrow reigns, And sin makes desolate the heart With withered hopes, and blighted love.

But Oh! I'm very weary now Of earth with all its cares and tears, And I can never love again; The tie that binds my spirit here. My treasure I will lay up where It never, never will corrode. Where cooling shades by pleasant streams Our eyes will e'er behold—and we Can drink of them and never thirst; Ah yes; and every tear be dried, And wiped away by gentle hands.— [Sel.