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Funeral Thought

13, 12, 11


On the Death of an Infant


Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee;

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;

The Savior has passed through its portals before thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom,

(Repeat previous line).


Thou art gone to the grave—we no longer behold thee,

Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side;

But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee

And sinners may hope, since the Savior hath died.


Thou art gone to the grave—and thy cradle's forsaken.

With us thy fond spirit did not tarry long,

But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking,

And the sound thou didst hear was the seraphim's song.


Thou art gone to the grave, but 'twere wrong to deplore thee,

When God was thy ransom, and guardian, and guide.

He gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee,

Where death hath no sting, since the Savior hath died.

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