|
|
Transporting tidings which we hear!
What music to the pious ear!
Christ loves each humble saint so well,
He with his Lord shall ever dwell.
O happy dead, in thee that sleep,
While o’er their mouldering dust we weep!
O faithful Saviour, who shall come
That dust to ransom from the tomb!
While thine unerring word imparts
So rich a cordial to our hearts,
Through tears our triumphs shall be shown,
Though round their graves, and near our own.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
Writer(s):
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
|
Dates:
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 1851 | # 462 |
echo ' | ';
|