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405.

7s. M.

J. H. Bancroft.

The Christian’s Burial.
317

Brother, though from yonder sky

Cometh neither voice nor cry,

Yet we know for thee to-day

Every pain hath passed away.

Not for thee shall tears be given,

Child of God, and heir of heaven;

For he gave thee sweet release;

Thine the Christian’s death of peace.

Well we know thy living faith

Had the power to conquer death;

As a living rose may bloom

By the border of the tomb.

Brother, in that solemn trust,

We commend thy dust to dust;

In that faith we wait, till, risen,

Thou shalt meet us all in heaven.

While we weep as Jesus wept,

Thou shalt sleep as Jesus slept;

Then with Jesus thou shalt rest,

Crowned, and glorified, and blest.

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