The Vanities Of Life - A poem by James S. Jennings

The Vanities Of Life.

Sad fate has marked me for her own,
Life's blessings still denying,
And ere its ripening fruit is grown
'Tis dying, dying, dying.

Oh, what is life to me bereft
of Friendship true confiding,
And what are pleasures, such as left
With none to be dividing?

We ask a friendship that awaits
A future promise giving,
Where ties beyond the pearly gates
Renewed are ever living.

We reach, we grasp, with eager haste,
Life's blessings and its pleasures;
But time brings bitter to the taste,
Death gathers in our treasures.

Oh, loving Savior, bless this one,
Sad spirit cease repining,
Transform this life unto Thy own^__
Our inmost thoughts divining.

For 'tis not the end of life we seek,
But only the beginning,
When blessings promised to the weak
Shall crown them in the winning.

When we can in that happy hour
But see its true designing,
When angels tinge with hidden power
The clouds with silver lining.

When we can stand and feel the way
Of loved ones robes adjusting,
When from beneath the opening grave
The redeemed to life come trusting.

^__James S. Jennings.

Poets and Poetry of Kansas
Edited by Thomas W. Herringshaw
(Chicago: American Publishers' Association. 1894)
Page 57-58