ORD Jesu, who at Lazarus' tomb
To weeping friends from death's dark womb Didst bring new joy to life,
Grant to the friends who stand forlorn
A vision of that larger morn
Where peace has conquered strife.
2 May we behold across the bar The dear immortals as they are, Empowered in act and will, With purer eyes to see their King, With fuller hearts his praise to sing, With strength to help us still ; 3 Not fettered now by fleshly bond, But tireless in the great beyond, And growing day by day.
Can we not make their gladness ours, And share their thoughts, their added powers, And follow as we pray?
4. O Holy Ghost, the strength and guide Of those who to this earth have died, But live more near to God,
Give us thy grace to follow on,
Till we with them the crown have won Who duty's paths have trod.
G. Moultrie +, 1829-85. TOW the labourer's toils are o'er,
Fought the battle, won the crown: On life's rough and barren shore Thou hast laid thy burden down: Grant him, Lord, eternal rest, With the spirits of the blest.
2 Angels bear thee to the land Where the towers of Sion rise; Safely lead thee by the hand To the fields of Paradise:
3 White-robed, at the golden gate Of the new Jerusalem, May the host of Martyrs wait; Give thee part and lot with them: 4 Friends and dear ones gone before To the land of endless peace, Meet thee on that further shore Where all tears and weeping cease: 5* Rest in peace: the gates of hell Touch thee not, till he shall come For the souls he loves so well,- Dear Lord of the heavenly home: 6*. Earth to earth, and dust to dust, Clay we give to kindred clay, In the sure and certain trust Of the Resurrection day :
R. F. Littledale, 1833-90.
LORD, to whom the spirits live Of all the faithful passed away, Upon their path that brightness give Which shineth to the perfect day : O Light eternal, Jesu blest,
Shine on them all, and grant them rest.
2 In thy green, pleasant pastures feed
The sheep which thou hast summoned hence; And by the still, cool waters lead
Thy flock in loving providence :
3* How long, O holy Lord, how long Must we and they expectant wait To hear the gladsome bridal song, To see thee in thy royal state? 4 O hearken, Saviour, to their cry,
O rend the heavens and come down, Make up thy jewels speedily,
And set them in thy golden crown :
5. Direct us with thine arm of might, And bring us perfected with them To dwell within thy city bright, The heavenly Jerusalem:
St. John Damascene, c. 750. Tr. A. R.
Ποία τοῦ βίου τρυφὴ διαμένει λύπης ἀμέτοχος. HAT sweet of life endureth
Unmixed with bitter pain? 'Midst earthly change and chances What glory doth remain?
2 All is a feeble shadow,
A dream that will not stay; Death cometh in a moment, And taketh all away.
3 O Christ, a light transcendent Shines in thy countenance, And none can tell the sweetness, The beauty of thy glance.
4. In this may thy poor servant His joy eternal find;
Thou calledst him, O rest him, Thou Lover of mankind!
The following are also suitable: 134 Jesus lives! thy terrors now. 251 O heavenly Jerusalem.
371 Brief life is here our portion.
373 Children of the heavenly King.
401 He wants not friends that hath thy love. 428 Let saints on earth in concert sing. 455 O let him whose sorrow.
498 There is a land of pure delight. 500 They whose course on earth is o'er. 744 Give rest, O Christ, to thy servant.
FEW more years shall roll, A few more seasons come, And we shall be with those that rest In peace beyond the tomb. Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that great day; O wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
A few more suns shall set O'er these dark hills of time,
And we shall be where suns are not, A far serener clime.
Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that blest day; O wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
A few more storms shall beat On this wild rocky shore,
And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more. Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that calm day; O wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er,
A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more.
Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day; O wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
5. 'Tis but a little while
And he shall come again,
Who died that we might live, who lives That we with him may reign.
Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that glad day; O wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
Martin Luther, 1483-1546. Tr. Thomas Carlyle. Ein' feste Burg.
SAFE stronghold our God is still, A trusty shield and weapon;
He'll help us clear from all the ill That hath us now o'ertaken. The ancient prince of hell Hath risen with purpose fell; Strong mail of craft and power He weareth in this hour;
On earth is not his fellow.
2 With force of arms we nothing can, Full soon were we down-ridden; But for us fights the proper Man, Whom God himself hath bidden. Ask ye, Who is this same ? Christ Jesus is his name, The Lord Sabaoth's Son; He, and no other one, Shall conquer in the battle.
3* And were this world all devils o'er, And watching to devour us,
We lay it not to heart so sore; Not they can overpower us.
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