We see but dimly thro' the mists and vapors, Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers, May be heav'ns distant lamps.

3 She is not dead, the child of our affection, But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule.

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives whom we call dead.

4 And tho' at times, impetuous with emotion, And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean That cannot be at rest: We will be patient--and a.s.suage the feeling We cannot wholly stay, By silence sanctifying, not concealing The grief that must have way.

Henry W. Longfellow, 1849.

502 Peace, Be Still. P.M.

_Submission._

Peace, be still!

In this night of sorrow bow; Oh, my heart, contend not thou; What befalls is G.o.d's own will; Peace, be still!

2 Hold thee still!

Tho' the Father scourge thee sore, Cling thou to him all the more; Let him mercy's work fulfill; Hold thee still!

3 Lord, my G.o.d!

Give me grace, that I may be Thy true child, and silently Own thy scepter and thy rod; Lord, my G.o.d!

4 Shepherd mine!

From thy fullness give me still Faith to do and bear thy will Till the morning light shall shine; Shepherd mine!

Schiller.

503 Rest, Weary Pilgrim. 10s.

_Death of a Christian._

Rest, weary pilgrim, thy journey is o'er, Rest, sweetly rest, on the beautiful sh.o.r.e; Safely at last thou hast reached the bright goal, Fatherland, home of the soul.

2 Never again shall thy storm-beaten breast Sigh, deeply sigh, for the sweet "land of rest;"

Gone to the Savior's bright mansion above, Rest in the light of his love.

3 Rest, weary pilgrim, thy journey is o'er, Rest, sweetly rest, on the beautiful sh.o.r.e; Dangers and troubles shall harm thee no more, Rest on the beautiful sh.o.r.e.

Maria Straub.

504 As Fade the Stars. P.M.

_The Life of the Departed._

As fade the stars at morn away, Their glory gone in perfect day, So pa.s.s away the friends we love, Their presence lost in worlds above, While we o'er their slumbers are weeping.

2 As sink the stars when night is o'er, To rise upon some other sh.o.r.e, So sink our precious ones from sight, In other skies to walk in light, While we sorrow's vigils are keeping.

3 No more in east, or in the west, Fade they from sight, or sink to rest; Fixed firm in that celestial air, They radiant shine eternal there; Our hearts up to meet them fond leaping.

J.E. Rankin, D.D.

505 Nettie. 5s & 9s.

_Consolation._

Midst sorrow and care There's one that is near, And ever delights to relieve us.

2 'Tis Jesus, our Friend, On whom we depend For life and for all its rich blessings.

3 When trouble a.s.sails, His love never fails; He meets us with sweet consolation.

506 Meribah. C.P.M.

_Pleading for Acceptance._ (1114)

When thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come, To take thy ransomed people home, Shall I among them stand?

Shall such a worthless worm as I, Who sometimes am afraid to die, Be found at thy right hand?

2 I love to meet thy people now, Before thy feet with them to bow, Though vilest of them all; But--can I bear the piercing thought?-- What if my name should be left out, When thou for them shalt call?

3 O Lord, prevent it by thy grace; Be thou my only hiding-place, In this th' accepted day; Thy pardoning voice, oh, let me hear, To still my unbelieving fear, Nor let me fall, I pray.

4 And when the final trump shall sound, Among thy saints let me be found, To bow before thy face; Then in triumphant strains I'll sing, While heaven's resounding mansions ring With praise of sovereign grace.

Mrs. Selina Shirley, 1772

507 Meribah. C.P.M.

_Present and Future Realities._ (1115)

Lo! on a narrow neck of land, Between two boundless seas I stand,-- Yet how insensible!

A point of time--a moment's s.p.a.ce-- Removes me to yon heavenly place, Or shuts me up in h.e.l.l!

2 O G.o.d! my inmost soul convert, And deeply on my thoughtless heart Eternal things impress; Give me to feel their solemn weight, And save me, ere it be too late!

Wake me to righteousness.

3 Be this my one great business here, With holy trembling, holy fear, To make my calling sure; Thine utmost counsel to fulfill, To suffer all thy righteous will, And to the end endure!

4 Then Savior! then my soul receive, Transported from the earth, to live And reign with thee above; Where faith is sweetly lost in sight, And hope, in full supreme delight, And everlasting love.

Charles Wesley, 1749.