"Reader! art thou prepar'd to welcome death,
Like her whose body rests in hope beneath?
Her stedfast aim, the glory of her God;
Her only trust, a Saviour's precious blood.
The friends of Jesus death assaults in vain,—
With whom to live is Christ, to die is gain."
"How blest the righteous when he dies,
When sinks a weary soul to rest;
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves th' expiring breast.
So fades a summer cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies a wave along the shore."
"O yes, a rest remaineth on high
Where glory immutably shines;
Where eternity measures the boundless joy,
And perfection never declines.
Eyes with the film of death are not dimn'd,
Forms waste not, nor weary with pain,
No voice is hush'd in the song of praise,
For no heart shall grieve again."
"Saint after saint on earth
Has liv'd, and lov'd, and died;
And as they leave us one by one,
We lay them side by side.
