"And He came and touched the bier, and they that W AKE not, O mother, sounds of lamentation! Weep not, O widow, weep not hopelessly! Strong is His arm, the Bringer of Salvation, Strong is the Word of God to succour thee. Bear forth the cold corpse, slowly, slowly bear him : Hide his pale features with the sable pall: Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him Widow'd and childless, she has lost her all. Why pause the mourners? Who forbids our weeping? Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delayed? "Set down the bier :-he is not dead but sleeping! Young man arise!" He spake, and was obey'd. Change, then, O sad one, grief to exultation: "Sorrow not even as others which have no hope." O the earth thy dust consigning, To its God thy soul resigning, We commit thee, unrepining, To thy tranquil grave; Yielding thee to His protection, To His tenderer affection Who,-our Life and Resurrection, Once in mercy gave. Life's last lesson slowly learning, Thou the golden streets art treading As the flood-notes of the river We with tearfulness and weeping Through the night our watch are keeping, Lest the Master find us sleeping In His hour of strife. Lord, our suppliant cry receiving, Would with them be blest : THE FATHER'S HOUSE. "If God will be with me so that I come to my father's house in peace, then shall the Lord be my God."— GEN. xxviii. 20, 21. |