586. 587. 1 There hosts of beauteous spirits, 2 They sing of earth and heaven,- To God, their gracious Father, S. M. Death of a Young Girl. WHAT though the stream be dead, It murmurs o'er a lovelier bed, 2 What though our bird of light 3 True that our beauteous doe 4 0 star! untimely set! Why should we weep for thee! 7s. M. Dirge for an Infant. WILSON. ANONYMOUS. 1 LAY her gently in the dust; 588. Spirit to immortal birth ;" 2 Upward soaring, like the dove, 3 With the Rock of Ages trust, C. M. Death of a Child. 1 THOU gavest, and we yield to thee, H. BACCH For bitter though grief's cup may be, 2 O, thou canst bid our grief be stilled, How large a place his presence filled! 3 We mourn the sunshine of his smile, 4 Our chastened spirits bow in prayer, 589. C. M. Death of the Young. MRS. HEMANS. 1 CALM on the bosom of thy God, 2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath! They that have seen thy look in death, 3 Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers, 590. 8s. & 7s. M. S. F. SMITH. Death of a Young Girl. 1 SISTER, thou wast mild and lovely, 2 Peaceful be thy silent slumber- 3 Dearest sister, thou hast left us; 4 Yet again we hope to meet thee, Then in heaven with joy to greet thee, 591. 592. 8s. & 7s. M. Burial of a Christian Brother. BAP. MEMORIAL. 1 BROTHER, rest from sin and sorrow; On thy slumber dawns no morrow: 2 Brother, wake; the night is waning; 3 Brother, wake; for he who loved thee,- 4 Fare thee well; though woe is blending Triumph high and joy unending Death of a Christian in his prime. 1 Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime, In full activity of zeal and power; A Christian cannot die before his time, The Lord's appointment is the servant's hour. 2 Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease; Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest task is done; Come from the heat of battle and in peace, Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won. 3 Go to the grave, for there thy Saviour lay In death's embraces, ere he rose on high; And all the ransomed, by that narrow way, Pass to eternal life beyond the sky. 4 Go to the grave:-no, take thy seat above; 593. S. M. MONTGOMERY On the Death of an aged Christian. "I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course." 1 SERVANT of God, well done! The voice at midnight came, A mortal arrow pierced his frame- 2 Tranquil amidst alarms, A veteran slumbering on his arms, 3 The pains of death are past, And, life's long warfare closed at last, Soldier of Christ! well done! 387 |