597. P. M. Anonymous.
Death of a Minister.
1On Zion's holy walls
Is quenched a beacon-light,
In vain the watchman calls--
"Sentry! what of the night?"
No answering voice is here,
Say--does the soldier sleep?
O yes--upon the bier,
His watch no more to keep.
2Still is that heaven-touched tongue,
Pulseless the throbbing breast;
That voice with music strung,
Forever put to rest.
To rest? A living thought,
Undimmed, unquenched, he soars
An essence, spirit-wrought,
Of yon immortal shores.
3Peace to thee, man of God!
Thine earthly toils are o'er,
The thorny path is trod,
The Shepherd trod before,--
Full well he kept his word--
"I'm with thee to the end;
Fear not! I am the Lord,
Thy never-failing friend!"
4We weave no dirge for thee,
It should not call a tear
To know that thou art free;
Thy home--it was not here!
Joy to thee, man of God!
Thy heaven-course is begun,
Unshrinking, thou has trod
Death's vale,--thy race is run.
598. 8s. & 7s. M. L. H. Sigourney.
The Same.
1Pastor, thou art from us taken
In the glory of thy years,
As the oak, by tempests shaken,
Falls ere time its verdure sears.
2Pale and cold we see thee lying
In God's temple, once so dear,
And the mourner's bitter sighing
Falls unheeded on thine ear.
3All thy love and zeal, to lead us
Where immortal fountains flow,
And on living bread to feed us,
In our fond remembrance glow.
4May the conquering faith, that cheered thee
When thy foot on Jordan pressed,
Guide our spirits while we leave thee
In the tomb that Jesus blessed.