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Title: Reflections On Petch's Tomb
Author: John Castillo [
More Titles by Castillo]
Dear Petch belov’d! Thy endless portion’s fix’d!
As death hath left thee, so shall judgment find:
Thy spirit, with a world of spirits mix’d,
Hath left its mouldering tenement behind!
Sprightly and active, thou the other day,
Didst fill thy station in this world of cares;
In life’s fair morn, thy soul hath slipt away,
From its delusions, and a thousand snares!
Thy cheeks a more than common bloom did wear,
Thy voice with music sweetly did agree;
Thy heart was lively, thy complexion fair:—
Had I chose one for life, I’d chosen thee!
Perhaps thy mind dwelt on some future scene,
Anticipating more than was allow’d,
When pale affliction drew a veil between,
And death appointed thee an early shroud!
Methinks I hear thee, while I thus survey
The dreary place where thy remains are laid,
Crying, “Prepare for the great judgment day!
That day which shall thy destiny decide!
There’s no repenting in the gloomy grave,
Nor in that world in which I now exist;
Christ died, that he from hell thy soul might save,—
Keep his commands, or thou wilt ne’er be blest!”
Here I should faint, reflecting on my theme,
And recollecting thy great sins now past,
Had not the grace of God, thy passport been,
Had not heaven deign’d to smile on thee at last!
Hadst thou not given some proof of penitence,
Had I not witness’d oft the bless’d effect,
I might have fear’d, through disobedience,
That Heaven for ever would thy soul reject.
But Oh, the saving power of grace divine,
Which reach’d the dying thief upon the cross,
Had visited that troubled soul of thine,
Which else had mourn’d its everlasting loss!
Disrob’d of all his terrors, Death drew nigh,—
Behind, a band of shining seraphs stood,
He pointed toward the opening sky,
And dipt his dart in the atoning blood!
His humble victim felt the stingless wound,
And to his God resign’d his fleeting breath;
He view’d Heav’ns portals through the gloom around,
And shouted “Victory!” in the arms of Death!
Go, blooming youth, and share the rich reward,
Purchas’d for such as thee with blood divine;
Thank God, He ever did thy prayer regard,
And caus’d the light of life on thee to shine!
May all the household of thy kindred dear,
Hear and regard the caution thou hast given;
Repent, and turn to God, with hearts sincere,
And have, like thee, the earnest of their Heaven!
May I amidst a world of toil and care,
Still bear in mind my Shepherd’s care for me,
Weep o’er my sin, each day for death prepare,
Sigh o’er thy name-stamp’d tool, and think on thee!
[The end]
John Castillo's poem: Reflections On Petch's Tomb
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