Think not, dear friend, that I lie dead
Within a grave like this;
'Tis but the sleep to earth and time,
Which wakes in endless bliss.—A.
"Death may the bonds of life unloose,
But not dissolve Christ's love;
Millions of infant souls compose
The family above.
"Their feeble frames His pow'r doth raise,
And mould with heav'nly skill;
He gives them tongues to sing His praise.
And hands to do His will."
"When fled is our youth and death is in sight,
The word of His truth shall still be our light;
Though tempests may lour, with Christ on our side,
In death's darkest hour the Lord shall provide."
"While in this world we still remain,
We only meet to part again;
But when we reach the heav'nly shore,
Those who once meet shall part no more."
"Thou art gone to thy rest, brother!
We will not weep for thee;
For thou art now where oft, on earth,
Thy spirit long'd to be.
