On the Death of Her Brother, Francis I.

From the French by Louisa Stuart Costello ’T IS done! a father, mother, gone, A sister, brother, torn away, My hope is now in God alone, Whom heaven and earth alike obey. Above, beneath, to him is known,— The world’s wide compass is his own. I love,—but in the world no more, Nor in gay hall, or festal bower; Not the fair forms I prized before,— But him, all beauty, wisdom, power, My Saviour, who has cast a chain On sin and ill, and woe and pain! I from my memory have effaced All former joys, all kindred, friends; All honors that my station graced I hold but snares that fortune sends: Hence! joys by Christ at distance cast, That we may be his own at last!

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V. Death and Bereavement

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From the French by Louisa Stuart Costello ’T IS done! a father, mother, gone, A sister, brother, torn away, My hope is now in God alone, Whom heaven and earth alike obey. Above, beneath, to him is known,— The world’s wide compass is his own. I love,—but in the world no more, Nor in gay...