CXXIX TO GOD IN HIS SICKNESS WHA HAT though my harp and viol be the willow-tree? What though my bed be now my grave, R. Herrick CXXX A HAPPY DEATH S precious gums are not for lasting fire, As They but perfume the temple and expire ; She vanished, we can scarcely say she died; So softly death succeeded life in her, She did but dream of Heaven, and she was there. No pains she suffered, nor expired with noise; Her soul was whispered out with God's still voice. John Dryden The face fat in de nong sin I see the old man in his grave The loving ones we loved the best, Like music, all are gone! And the wan moonlight bathes in rest Their monumental stone. But not, when the death prayer is said, The life of life departs; The body in the grave is laid, Its beauty in our hearts. At holy midnight, voices sweet Like fragrance fill the room, We know who sends the visions bright, From whose dear side they came! We veil our eyes before Thy light, We bless our Saviour's name. This frame of dust, this feeble breath, Dim is the light of vanished years Like children for some bauble fair We part with life-awake! and there Prof. Wilson CXXXII HOPE IN DEATH Μ' Y life's a shade, my days Apace to death decline; My Lord is Life, He'll raise My dust again, e'en mine. Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, And with these eyes My peaceful grave shall keep I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. My Lord His angels shall I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. I said sometimes with tears, Ah me! I'm loath to die! Lord, silence Thou these fears: I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. What means my trembling heart, To be thus shy of death? Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. Then welcome, harmless grave: By thee to Heaven I'll go : Me from the flames below, Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, And with these eyes S. Crossman |