363. L. M. G. Rogers. Religion.
1 Religion! in its blessed ray
All thought of hopeless sorrow flies,
Despair and anguish melt away
Where'er its healing beams arise.
How dark our sinful world would be --
A flowerless desert, dry and drear!
Did not this light, O God, from thee
Its gloom dispel, its aspect cheer.
2 Oh! by it many a heart is soothed,
Which else would be with sorrow crushed,
And many a dying pillow smoothed,
And sob of parting anguish hushed.
Across the troubled sky of time
It doth the bow of promise bend,
A symbol of that cloudless clime
That waits the soul when time shall end.
3 Religion! may its holy light
Our footsteps guide to paths of peace!
Our solace in deep sorrow's night,
Our stay as mortal powers decrease.
With this our guide, we care not when
Death's signal to depart is given;
Its word shall bring our spirits then
The calm and holy peace of heaven.