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599. The Longing for Death.

C.M. 1. HOW gently flow the silent years,

The seasons one by one !
The feeling grows each month that goes

That life must soon be done.
2. O weary ways of earth and men !

() self more weary still !
How vainly do you vex the heart

That none but God can fill !
3. It is not weariness of life

That makes us wish to die;
But we are drawn by cords which come

From out eternity.
4. Eye has not seen, ear has not heard,

No heart of man can tell
The store of joys God has prepared

For those who love Him well.
5. O may those joys one day be ours,

Upon that happy shore;
And yet those joys are not enough,

We crave for something more.
6. Yea ! peace is something more than joy,

Even the joys above ;
For peace of all created things,

Is likest Him we love.
7. But not for joy, nor yet for peace,

Dare we desire to die;
God's will on earth is always joy,

Always tranquillity.
8. To die, that we might sin no more,

Were scarce a hero's prayer ;

And glory grows as grace matures,

And patience loves to bear.

9. And yet we long and long to die,

We covet to be free;
Not for Thy great rewards, O God !
Nor for Thy peace—but Thee !

F. W. Faber.


The Final Rest.



O FAITHFUL heart! sweet peace hast thou

In God's eternal bosom now !
Dust sinks to dust in calm repose ;
Into its rest the spirit goes.

2. The love thaí was thy life while here

Is now thy heavenly atmosphere ;
God's heaven enspheres us round, and thou
In Him, art nearer to us now.

3. So then we cry, Farewell and Hail !

Brave heart, thy work shall never fail,
And we who here a friend deplore,
Have gained in heaven one angel more.

Charles T. Brooks.


From God to God.
To Thee, O Lord, I yield my spirit,

Who break'st in love this mortal chain;
My life I but from Thee inherit,

And death becomes my chiefest gain.
In Thee I live, in Thee I die,
Content--for Thou art ever nigh.

G. Neumarck,

The Day of Death.

7.7.7. 1. THOU inevitable day,

When a voice to me shall say,
Thou must rise and come away :
2. All thy other journeys past,

Gird thee, and make ready fast

For thy longest and thy last.”
3. Day, deep hidden from our sight

In impenetrable night,

Who may guess of thee aright? 4. Art thou distant, art thou near ?

Wilt thou seem more dark or clear,

Day with more of hope or fear?
5. Come thou must, and we must die :

God our helper ! stand Thou by,
When that last sleep seals our eye.

R. C. Trench.



A Requiem. INTO the eternal shadow

That girds our life around,
Into the infinite silence

Wherewith Death's shore is bound,
Thou hast gone forth, belovéd !

And we were mean to weep,
That thou hast left Life's shadows,

And dost possess the Deep.
2. Now we can see thee clearly ;

The dusky cloud of clay
That hid thy starry spirit

Is rent and blown away :

To earth we gave thy body,

Thy spirit to the sky,
We saw its bright wings growing,

And knew that thou must fly.
3. Now we can love thee truly,

For nothing comes between
The senses and the spirit,

The seen and the unseen ;
Lifts the eternal shadow,

The silence bursts apart,
And the soul's boundless future
Is present in the heart.

James Russell Lowell.




The Silent Land.
GOD giveth quietness at last 1

The common way once more is passed
From pleading tears and lingerings fond,

To fuller life and love beyond.
2. What to shut eyes hath God revealed ?

What hear the ears that death hath sealed ?
What undreamed beauty, passing show,

Requites the loss of all we know?
3. O silent land, to which we move,

Enough, if there alone be love!
And mortal need can ne'er outgrow
What it is waiting to bestow!

J. G. Whittier.


The Evening of Life. II.10.11.6. 1. WHEN on my day of life the night is falling,

And, in the winds from unsunned places blown,

I hear far voices out of darkness calling

My feet to paths unknown;

2. Thou who hast made my home of life so pleasant,

Leave not its tenant when its walls decay ;
O Love divine, O Helper ever present,

Be Thou my strength and stay.

3. Be near me when all else is from me driftingEarth, sky, home's pictures, days of shade and

And kindly faces to my own uplifting

The love which answers mine.

4. I have but Thee, my Father ! let Thy spirit

In that dread hour my sinking heart uphold ; Then my frail life in Thine, though nought I merit, For evermore unfold.

J. G. Whittier and W. Whitwell.

606. The Shadows of Death.
1. SLOWLY, slowly darkening,

The evening hours roll on ;
And soon behind the cloud-land

Will sink the setting sun.

2. So, round my path, life's mysteries

Their deepening shadows throw;
And, as I gaze and ponder,

They dark and darker grow.
3. Yet still, amid the darkness,

I feel the light is near ;
And, in the awful silence,

God's voice I seem to hear.

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