THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE

These ashes, too, this little dust
Our Father's care shall keep,

Till the last angel rise and break
The long and dreary sleep.

H. Kirke White.

EASTER ANTHEM

SING with all the sons of glory,
Sing the resurrection song!
Death and sorrow, earth's dark story,
To the former days belong:
All around the clouds are breaking,
Soon the storms of time shall cease,
In God's likeness, man awaking,
Knows the everlasting peace.

O what glory, far exceeding

All that eye has yet perceived! Holiest hearts for ages pleading, Never that full joy conceived. God has promised, Christ prepares it, There on high our welcome waits; Every humble spirit shares it,

Christ has passed the eternal gates.

Life eternal! heaven rejoices,

Jesus lives who once was dead; Join, O man, the deathless voices, Child of God, lift up thy head!

EASTER ANTHEM

Patriarchs from the distant ages,

Saints all longing for their heaven, Prophets, psalmists, seers, and sages, All await the glory given.

Life eternal! O what wonders

Crowd on faith; what joy unknown, When, amidst earth's closing thunders, Saints shall stand before the throne! Oh, to enter that bright portal,

See that glowing firmament,

Know, with Thee, O God immortal,

"Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent!"

William J. Irons.

66

"HE SHALL DO WELL"

LORD, if he sleep he shall do well,"

Why should we weep, why should a knell,
Dirging and deep, over him swell?
"He shall do well."

Nobly he wrought, strongly he ran;
Bravely he fought, fought in the van;
Rest hath he sought, he was but man-
"He shall do well."

66

See, too, that rest, how calm and deep-
O'er that stilled breast Thou watch dost keep;
To Thine heart pressed, he is asleep.
"He shall do well."

Till the day break here let him be,
Then shall we wake, glorious and free,
For Thy dear sake like unto Thee !
"He shall do well."

Unknown.

A HYMN OF HOPE

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

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;

Thy Saviour has passed through its portal before thee,

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

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 die, for the Sinless hath died.

Thou art gone to the grave; and, its mansion forsaking,

Perchance thy weak spirit in fear lingered

long;