But now they must obey His call,
And as their Judge behold His face.
And soon the last great call will come,
The trumpet gloriously shall sound;
And then midst Resurrection joy,
Our dear ones will again be found.
These bodies will all turn to dust,
And mingle with their earth again;
But they who sleep in Jesus, shall
Awake to glory in His train.
O joyful thought! we may descend,
Fearless into the grave's deep vault;
JESUS still lives; and we shall stand
Before God's throne without a fault.
"He shall gather the Lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom."-ISAIAH XI. 11.
REST, for the little sleeper!
Joy for the ransomed soul !
Peace for the lonely weeper,
Dark tho' the waters roll!
Weep for the little sleeper;
Weep, it will ease thy heart,
Tho' the dull pain be deeper
Than with the world to part.
Mighty the conflict o'er her!
How could she face the foe? Rugged the road before her ! How could the weak one go?
She could not climb the mountain ;
She could not face the foe
Lying between Life's Fountain,
And this dark vale below.
But the kind Shepherd found her, Laid her upon His breast, Folded His arms around her, Hushed her to endless rest.
He bore her up the mountain,
He trampled down the foe,
He laid her by Life's Fountain,
Whence the still waters flow.
Joy for the little sleeper,
The gentle, timid lamb,
Safe with her tender Keeper!
Could there be sweeter balm ?
As the dread hour came nearer,
Closer the tendril clung,
Growing each moment dearer,
Tho' the heart's core was wrung.
Oh! what are earth's best pleasures, Sickening the woe-struck heart? What all its joys and treasures, When with the loved we part!
But the long-wished for token,
Earnest of peaceful rest,
Binds up the heart that's broken,
Soothes the distracted breast.
Do not then, droop in sadness,
Dark tho' the night may
There's a bright morn of gladness,
Mourner, reserved for thee!
Yet shall the loved one greet thee,
Smiling in Heaven's own light,
Joying once more to meet thee
Where there can be no blight.
Grieve not with hopeless sorrow,
Jesus has felt thy pain;
Thy child He did but borrow,
He'll bring her back again.
Peace, little loving sleeper,
Close to thy Saviour's side,
Housed with thy tender Keeper,
Safe-for the Lord has died.
THE BATTLE FOUGHT AND WON.
EXOD. xiv. 14.-1 COR. xv. 57.
COME, Lord, and fight the battle,
My hands are tired and faint;
I have no strength to struggle,
"Consider my complaint."
One of thy weakest soldiers
Is weary in the field,—
Yet Thine is all the victory,
Thy love is all my shield.
'Tis not that I am weary
Of service done for Thee;
"Tis not that I would alter
Thy loving will for me—
Sweet is the vineyard labour,
Through all the toil and heat;
And sweet the lonely night-watch
Safe resting at Thy feet.
Yet, Lord, there is a warfare
No eye but Thine may see;
Oh hear my cry for succour,
Come Thou and fight for me.
The self I cannot conquer,
The will that still is mine,
Oh take them both, Lord Jesus,
And make them one with Thine.
Take them! I cannot yield them—
I am not what I seemed;
I have no power, Lord Jesus,
To do what once I dreamed.
The yearning of the earth-life,
Is stronger than my strength;
When may the spell be broken,
And freedom come at length?
Like dew on drooping blossoms,
Like breath from holy place,
Laden with health and healing
Come Thy deep words of grace;
Thy strength is all in leaning,
On One who fights for thee;
Thine is the helpless clinging,
And Mine the Victory.
"CAST THY BURDEN UPON THE LORD, AND HE SHALL SUSTAIN THEE."
CHRISTIAN, when thy way seems darkest,
And thine eyes with tears are dim,
Straight to God thy Father hastening,
Tell thy sorrows unto Him.
Not to human ear confiding
Thy sad tale of grief or care,
But before thy Father hastening,
Pour out all thy sorrows there.
Sympathy of friends may cheer thee
When the fierce wild storm is past,
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