DIRGE OF DEATH.
ANGEL OF DEPARTURE.
Shrink not, oh Human Spirit,
The Everlasting Arm is strong to save.
Look up—look up, frail nature, put thy trust
In Him who went down mourning to the dust,
And overcame the grave.
CHORUS OF MINISTERING SPIRITS.
'Tis nearly done,
Life's work is nearly done,
Watching and weariness and strife.
One little struggle more,
One pang and it is o'er,
Then farewell life.
Farewell, farewell, farewell.
Kind friends, 'tis nearly past,
Come, come and look your last.
Sweet children, gather near,
And that last blessing hear,—
See how he loved you, who departeth now.
And, with thy trembling step, and pallid brow,
Oh most beloved one
Whose breast he leant upon,
Come, faithful unto death,
And take his latest breath.
Farewell—farewell—farewell.
ANGEL OF DEPARTURE.
Hail, disenthralled spirit;
Thou that the wine-press of the field hast trod:
On, blest Immortal, on, through boundless space,
And stand with thy Redeemer face to face,
And bow before thy God.
CHORUS OF MINISTERING SPIRITS.
'Tis done—'tis done;
Life's weary work is done;
Now the glad spirit leaves the clay,
And treads with winged ease
The bright acclivities
Of Heaven's crystalline way;
Joy to thee, Blessed one.
Lift up, lift up thine eyes,
Yonder is Paradise;
And this fair shining band
Are spirits of thy land;
And these, that throng to meet thee, are thy kin,
Who have awaited thee, redeemed from sin.
Bright spirit, thou art blest.
This city's name is Rest;
Here sin and sorrow cease,
And thou hast won its peace,
Joy to thee, Blessed One.
New Monthly Magazine.