Elliot Palmer Poem, undated
Florilla, with what gentle tread,
I walked around thy dying bed,
And O, the yearnings of my heart,
When, soon, I felt that we must part
I sought the Lord in earnest prayer,
I asked that he thy life would spare,
How could I yield the dreaded foe,
Whom more I loved than all below,
I tried those sacred words to shun,
Not my will Lord, but thine be done;
And yet, I felt I must be still,
And yield unto his sovereign will,
For he knows ever what is best.
The soul that's weary & oppress'd,
And with terrific pains distress'd,
Jesus can make supremely bless'd,
And grant it an eternal rest—
I knew God in his good pleasure,
Had but lent this precious treasure,
And that for me He'd kindly cared,
Her precious life He long had spared,
Two score years we had been plighted, /
And our hands and hearts united,
Forty years loves kindest tether,
How bound our souls and hearts together,
Then, should I not now the lender,
When he call'd me to surrender,
Back the gift, cheerfully comply—
That He might take her up on high,
To those bless'd mansions in the sky
no more to weep no more to die
No more to weep, no more to die
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Fondly my heart goes forth to thee,
Loveliest, dearest Florilla—
Thou wast here but now art gone.
Art thou conscious of me, forlorn!
And dost thou know the pain I felt,
When before God's throne I knelt,
Knowing that then, thy time had come,
And tried to say thy will be done?
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I knew that all was order'd right
By Him who fills this world with light.
Jesus that precious word had said
Blessed are the pious dead,
Who die in Him their living head,
For they shall ever with Him be
And his Majestic glory see
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God's plans are all matured above,
And all he does is done in love—
'Twas he who led me to admire,
'Twas He who gave my heart's Desire,
He did raise up, prepare, and send,
Whom I love'd first and to the end—
He gave thee me to love and bless,
But this is not our final rest.
Along life's journey as we pass'd,
Afflictions great came thick and fast,
But in them all we could rejoice,
In them we heard the Saviors voice,
Calling us up to higher life—
Above these clouds, and storms and strife.
Severe and great thy sufferings were,
But thou, with patience didst them bear,
Thy husband too with thee did share,
The pains, the sorrows and the care,
O! how those pains did pierce and dart,
Through thy whole frame, thro' every part,
Thy husband felt the sting, the smart,
Thro' every fiber of his heart.
Gladly would he have watchd thy bed,
Till his own spirit too had fled.
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What anxious care thou did'st bestow,
Lest sickness or some other foe,
Should bring him down & lay him low.
With what loving, what tender care,
Thou ever didst my trials share:
When death came into nearer view,
Those struggles then came up anew,
And burst in tender language too,
"Dearest, who will take care of you."
To this our Savior lent an ear,
He answer'd never, never fear,
I hold you both, I'm ever near.
I've been your comfort year by year,
And when I take this better part,
I still will bear you on my heart,
Trust me now, you'll see as you are seen.
There'll be no clouded glass between.
F. on thy name F love to dwell,
It holds me with a magic spell,
I love to think of what thou wast,
Tho' it minds me of what I've lost—
Think not of thee as mine no more,
But, just as having gone before,
As having pass'd the shades of night,
Enter'd within that world of light,
Mid all that's beautiful and bright,
Thyself in robes so pure and white,
We could not here endure the sight—
Bless'd in the spirit land thou art,
With there, as here, a loving heart.
Shall thy husband thither meet thee?
And in realms of glory greet thee:
Shall we part no more forever,
Shall us naught from Jesus sever,
O, then, what praises shall we sing,
To our triumphant Victor King—
Let all the glory be to him;
T'is He who saves from death & sin;
When we in trespasses were dead,
His precious blood was freely shed,
Ah! Who can tell how great the cost,
Thus to redeem and save the lost.
When pain and anguish press'd her down,
I did not view it as a frown,
But, as an earnest Jesus gave,
To those whom he would surely save.
She sought the Savior's love to win,
She longed for freedom from all sin.
She hunger'd and thirsted after God,
Patiently own'd yea, kiss'd the rod.
Jesus gave that cup to try her,
And thus, was she baptised by fire.
Tried, in that crucible of grace,
We clearly saw the Savior's face;
It shone more beautiful and bright,
Till he removed her from our sight.
He led her thro' the darken'd vail,
His promises do never fail.
DATABASE CONTENT
| (12694) | DL1798.026 | 189 | Other | 186X |
Tags: Anxiety, Death (Home Front), Love, Poetry, Religion, Sadness
People - Records: 2
SOURCES
Elliot Palmer Poem, undated, DL1798.026, Nau Collection
