"The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them.'
Now the labourer's task is o'er;
Now the battle day is past;
Now upon the farther shore
Lands the voyager at last.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.
There the tears of earth are dried;
There its hidden things are clear;
There the work of life is tried
By a juster Judge than here.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.
There the Angels bear on high
Many a strayed and wounded lamb,
Peacefully at last to lie
In the breast of Abraham.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.
There the sinful souls that turn
To the Cross their dying eyes,
All the love of CHRIST shall learn
At His feet in Paradise.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now thy servant sleeping.
There no more the powers of hell
Can prevail to mar their peace;
CHRIST the LORD shall guard them well-
He who died for their release.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.
"Earth to earth, and dust to dust";
Calmly now the words we say;
Leaving him to sleep in trust,
Till the Resurrection day.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping. Amen.
"Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well.”
THE Saints of GOD! Their conflict past,
And life's long battle won at last,
No more they need the shield or sword,
They cast them down before their LORD:-
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
At JESUS' feet how safe your rest!
The Saints of GOD! Their wanderings done,
No more their weary course they run,
No more they faint, no more they fall,
No foes oppress, no fears appal:
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
In that dear home how sweet your rest!
The Saints of GOD! Life's voyage o'er,
Safe landed on that blissful shore,
No stormy tempests now they dread,
No roaring billows lift their head :-
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
In that calm haven of your rest!
The Saints of GOD their vigil keep
While yet their mortal bodies sleep,
Till from the dust they too shall rise
And soar triumphant to the skies:-
O happy Saints! rejoice and sing,
He quickly comes, your LORD and King!
O GOD of Saints, to Thee we cry;
O SAVIOUR, plead for us on high:
O HOLY GHOST, our Guide and Friend,
Grant us Thy grace till life shall end;
That with All Saints our rest may be
In that bright Paradise with Thee!
Amen. Archbishop Maclagan.
"I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed."
SAFE home, safe home in port!
Rent cordage, shattered deck,
Torn sails, provisions short,
And only not a wreck;
But oh the joy upon the shore
To tell our voyage perils o'er !
The prize, the prize secure!
The wrestler nearly fell;
Bare all he could endure,
And bare not always well;
But he may smile at troubles gone
Who sets the victor-garland on!
No more the foe can harm ;
No more of leaguered camp,
And cry of night alarm,
And need of ready lamp;
And yet how nearly had he failed—
How nearly had that foe prevailed!
The lamb is in the fold,
In perfect safety penned;
The lion once had hold,
And thought to make an end;
But One came by with wounded Side,
And for the sheep the Shepherd died.
The exile is at home!
Oh nights and days of tears!
Oh longings not to roam!
Oh sins and doubts and fears!
What matters now grief's darkest day,
When GOD has wiped all tears away? Amen.
After the Death of a Child.
"He shall gather the Lambs with His Arm."
TENDER SHEPHERD, Thou hast still'd
Now Thy little lamb's brief weeping;
Ah how peaceful, pale, and mild
In its narrow bed 'tis sleeping;
And no sigh of anguish sore
Heaves that little bosom more.
In this world of care and pain,
LORD, Thou wouldst no longer leave it;
To the sunny heavenly plain
Thou dost now with joy receive it;
Clothed in robes of spotless white
Now it dwells with Thee in light.
Ah, LORD JESUS, grant that we
Where it lives may soon be living,
And the lovely pastures see
That its heavenly food are giving :
Then the gain of death we prove,
Though Thou take what most we love. Amen. C. Winkworth.
IT is a thing most wonderful,
Almost too wonderful to be,
That GOD's own SON should come from
And die to save a child like me!
And yet I know that it is true:
He came to this poor world below,
And wept, and toiled, and mourned, and died, Only because He loved us so.
I cannot tell how He could love
A child so weak and full of sin;
His love must be most wonderful
If He could die my love to win!
I sometimes think about the Cross,
And shut my eyes, and try to see
The cruel nails, and crown of thorns,
And JESUS crucified for me.
But, even could I see Him die,
I could but see a little part
Of that great love which, like a fire,
Is always burning in His heart.
It is most wonderful to know
His love for me so free and sure;
But 'tis more wonderful to see
My love for Him so faint and poor.
And I would pray, 'Come, HOLY GHOST,
Come, Spirit strong and free,
Dwell in my heart, and make me meet
The joys of heaven to see.
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