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Poems: With a Sketch of the Life and Experience of Annie R. Smith

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    It Was True

    I loved th’ enchanting viol’s sound,
    I loved the sprightly dance,
    And all the dear, delightful scenes
    Of nature’s wild romance.
    PSAS 11.2

    I know the fascinating charms,
    In all their depth and hight,
    Presumed on days and months and years
    Of exquisite delight.
    PSAS 11.3

    Though seventh-six, I feel I still
    These halls of mirth could grace;
    I left them when in youth 1At eighteen. and sought
    In Christ a hiding place.
    PSAS 11.4

    But Oh! the bitter cup I drank
    That tamed my wild career;
    Death struck my parents from my side
    And drowned my joy in tears.
    PSAS 11.5

    My dear loved home of childhood’s years,
    Where all was life and glee,
    Became a house of mourning, and
    Ere long no home for me.
    PSAS 11.6

    I’ve since formed nearer, dearer ties,
    And they too, have been riven.
    By these repeated strokes I’ve learned
    There’s nothing true but Heaven.
    PSAS 11.7

    My treasure’s there, my heart is there,
    The prize I mean to win;
    But know the victory must be gained
    O’er every darling sin.
    PSAS 12.1

    And may refiner’s fire go through
    Till I am purified;
    Till patience is perfected here,
    And all my graces tried.
    PSAS 12.2

    I’d bear the fiery trial now,
    Till holy made and pure,
    That I Christ’s image may reflect,
    And be in him secure.
    PSAS 12.3

    A home in Heaven will then be mine,
    A house not made with hands;
    Where Jesus will his saints receive,
    Who walk in his commands.
    PSAS 12.4

    Be it mine to walk the narrow way,
    Which my Redeemer trod,
    And in the City have a place
    Close by the throne of God.
    PSAS 12.5

    There friends will meet to part no more,
    Whose sins are here forgiven.
    I would not rest until I know,
    I have a home in Heaven.
    PSAS 12.6

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