From the burden of the flesh,

And from care and fear released,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

2 Sin can never taint thee now,
Nor doubt thy faith assail,

Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ
And the Holy Spirit fail:

And there thou 'rt sure to meet the good,
Whom on earth thou lovedst best,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

3 "Earth to earth," and "dust to dust,"
The solemn priest hath said;
So we lay the turf above thee now,
And we seal thy narrow bed:
But thy spirit, brother, soars away

Among the faithful blest,

Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

162

P. M.

BISHOP HEBER.

Funeral Hymn.

1 THOU art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore

Though sorrows and darkness

thee;

tomb,

encompass the

The Saviour has passed through its portals before

thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

2 Thou art gone to the grave; we no longer behold thee,

Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy

side;

But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,

And sinners may hope, since the Sinless has died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave, and, its mansions for

saking,

Perhaps thy tried spirit in doubt lingered long; But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking,

And the song that thou heardst was the seraphim’s song.

4 Thou art gone to the grave, but 't were wrong to deplore thee,

He

When God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and

guide;

gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore

thee,

Where death has no sting, since the Saviour has

died.

163

WILSON.

164

S. M.

Death of a Young Girl.

1 WHAT though the stream be dead,
Its banks all still and dry!

It murmureth now o'er a lovelier bed,
In the air-groves of the sky.

2 What though our bird of light
Lie mute with plumage dim!
In heaven I see her glancing bright,
I hear her angel hymn.

3 True that our beauteous doe
Hath left her still retreat;

But purer now, in heavenly snow,
She lies at Jesus' feet.

4 0, star untimely set!

Why should we weep for thee?
Thy bright and dewy coronet
Is rising o'er the sea.

C. M.

Consolations in Bereavement.

WILSON

1 THE air of death breathes through our souls,
The dead all round us lie;

By day and night the death-bell tolls,
And says, "Prepare to die!"

2 The loving ones we loved the best
Like music all are gone;

And the wan moonlight bathes in rest
Their monumental stone.

3 But not when the death-prayer is said, The life of life departs;

The body in the grave is laid,
Its beauty in our hearts.

4 At holy midnight voices sweet
Like fragrance fill the room;
And happy ghosts, with noiseless feet,
Come brightening from the tomb.

5 We know who sends the visions bright; From whose dear side they came !

We veil our eyes before thy light,
We bless our Saviour's name!

6 This frame, O God, this feeble breath,
Thy hand may soon destroy;
We think of thee, and feel in death
A deep and awful joy.

7 Dim is the light of vanished years
In the glory yet to come;
O idle grief! O foolish tears!

When Jesus calls us home.

165

C. M.

MRS. HEMANS

166

Death of the Young.

1 CALM on the bosom of thy God,
Young spirit, rest thee now!
E'en while with us thy footsteps trod,
His seal was on thy brow.

2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath!
Soul, to its place on high!

They that have seen thy look in death
No more may fear to die.

3 Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers,
Whence thy meek smile is gone;

But, O, a brighter home than ours
In heaven is now thine own.

1 ALAS the vale where tears run o'er,

The sorrow and the strife;

The burden of the flesh so sorc
This heavy load of life!

2 And yet we would not cast it off

For simple nakedness,

Nor even earth's poor garments doff
But for a brighter dress.