8,8,8,4,8
HYMN SUNG AT A FUNERAL.
"Here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to
come."--Heb. 13:14.
"Wohlauf! wohlan! zum Ietzten Sang,
Kurz ist der Weg, die Ruhe ist lang."
F. Sachse
transl., Jane Borthwick, 1855
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Come forth! come on, with solemn song!
The road is short, the rest is long!
The Lord brought here, He calls away:
Make no delay,
This home was for a passing day.
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Here in an inn a stranger dwelt,
Here joy and grief by turns he felt;
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door!
The task is o'er,
The sojourner returns no more,
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Now of a lasting home possest,
He goes to seek a deeper rest
Good-night! the day was sultry here,
In toil and fear;
Good-night! the night is cool and clear.
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Chime on, ye bells! again begin,
And ring the Sabbath morning in,
The laborer's week-day work is done,
The rest begun,
Which Christ hath for His people won!
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Now open to us, gates of peace!
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease.
Ye quiet slumberers, make room
In your still home,
For the new stranger who has come!
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How many graves around us lie!
How many homes are in the sky!
Yes, for each saint doth Christ prepare
A place with care:
Thy home is waiting, brother, there!
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Jesus, Thou reignest, Lord alone,
Thou wilt return and claim Thine own,
Come quickly, Lord! return again!
Amen! Amen!
Thine seal us ever, now and then!
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