All that makes for human good,
Freedom, righteousness and truth,
These, the objects of his youth,
Unto age he still pursued.
Kind and gentle was his soul,
Yet it had a glorious might;
Clouded minds it filled with light,
Wounded spirits it made whole.
Huts where poor men sat distressed,
Homes where death had darkly passed,
Beds where suffering breathed its last,
These he sought, and soothed and blessed.
Hoping, trusting, lay him down!
Many in the realms above
Look for him with eyes of love,
Wreathing his immortal crown.
LOWLY and solemn be
Thy children's cry to Thee,
Father divine!
A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are Thine.
O Father! in that hour
When earth all helping power
Shall disavow;
When spear, and shield, and crown,
In faintness are cast down,
And now, beside the grave,
We call on Thee to save,
Father divine!
Hear, hear our suppliant breath;
Keep us, in life and death,
Thine, only Thine!
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 good man'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 commit thy dust to dust;
Not for thee shall tears be given,
Child of God and heir of heaven!
6 HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN.'
CLAY to clay, and dust to dust!
Let them mingle, for they must!
Give to earth the earthly clod,
For the spirit 's fled to God.
Never more shall midnight's damp
Darken round this mortal lamp;
Never more shall noonday's glance
Search this mortal countenance.
Look aloft! The spirit 's risen;
Death cannot the soul imprison;
'Tis in heaven that spirits dwell,
Glorious, though invisible.
Thither let us turn our view;
Peace is there, and comfort too;
There shall those we love be found,
Tracing life's eternal round.
CALM on the bosom of thy God,
Young spirit, rest thee now!
E'en while with us thy footstep trod,
His seal was on thy brow.
Dust, to its narrow house beneath!
Soul, to its home on high!
They that have seen thy look in death No more may fear to die.
Lone are the paths, and sad the hours,
Since thy dear form is gone;
But, O, a brighter home than ours,
In heaven, is now thine own!
To the Father's love we trust
That which was enshrined in dust;
While we give the earth to earth,
Finds the soul its heavenly birth.
Angels wait the angel child,
Gentle, young, and undefiled.
Said not oft those pleading eyes
That they longed for purer skies?
Did not oft the falling tear
Speak of roughening billows here?
Prayed we not that she might rest
On her Heavenly Father's breast?
Give the spirit, then, to God,
And its vesture to the sod;
Life, henceforth, shall have a ray
Kindled ne'er to pass away,
And a light from angel eyes
Draw us upward to the skies.
To Light, that shines in stars and souls;
To Law, that rounds the world with calm;
To Love, whose equal triumph rolls
Through martyr's prayer and angel's psalm,-
We wed these walls with unseen bands,
In holier shrines not built with hands.
May purer sacrament be here
Than ever dwelt in rite or creed, -
Hallowed the hour with vow sincere
To serve the time's all-pressing need,
And rear, its heaving seas above,
Strongholds of Freedom, folds of Love.
Here be the wanderer homeward led;
Here living streams in fulness flow;
And every hungering soul be fed,
That yearns the Eternal Will to know;
Here conscience hurl her stern reply
To mammon's lust and slavery's lie.
Speak, Living God, Thy full command
Through prayer of faith and word of power,
That we with girded loins may stand
To do Thy work and wait Thine hour.
And sow, 'mid patient toils and tears
For harvests in serener years.
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