"THEM WHICH SLEEP IN JESUS WILL GOD BRING WITH HIM." THOU art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Thou art gone to the grave; we no longer behold thee, Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking, Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian, thy guide; He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee, And death hath no sting, for the Saviour has died. HE HUMBLED HIMSELF, AND BECAME OBEDIENT UNTO DEATH." To conquer and to save, the Son of God Who wont to ride on cherub-wings abroad, The grave unbolted half his grisly door, To work His will, and kingdom to secure : No strength He needed save His Father's name; Babes were His heralds, and His friends the poor. 66 HERE WE HAVE NO CONTINUING CITY." AH! when did wisdom covet length of days, A spark that upward tends by nature's force; A pilgrim, panting for a rest to come; LAY NOT UP TREASURES UPON EARTH." WHAT is this passing scene? A peevish April-day! A little sun,—a little rain,— And then night sweeps along the plain, And all things fade away: Man (soon discussed) Yields up his trust; And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust ! And what is beauty's power? It flourishes and dies; Will the cold earth its silence break, To tell how soft, how smooth a cheek Beneath it's surface lies? Mute, mute is all O'er beauty's fall; Her praise resounds no more, when mantled in her pall. The most beloved on earth Not long survives to-day; So music past is obsolete, And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet, Thus does the shade In memory fade, When in forsaken tomb the form beloved is laid! Then since this world is vain And volatile and fleet, Why should I lay up earthly joys, Where rust corrupts and moth destroys, And cares and sorrows eat? Why fly from ill With anxious skill, When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart lie still? |