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Why do we mourn departed friends,
Or tremble at the tomb?
Death is the envoy Jesus sends
To call his brethren home.
What though their forms lie cold and dead,
Each quiet grave is blest;
There, rested once his sacred head,
There, ours may also rest.
Our friends, released from care and pain,
Have reached a higher sphere;
Why should we wish them back again,
To toil and suffer here?
And we are tending upward too,
As fast as time can move;
Nor should we wish the hours more slow,
Absent from him we love.
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marker 99
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1853 | # 661 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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CHINA
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1800
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 618 | Bb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
