"Come, stingless death, have o'er; lo! here's my pass,
In blood character'd, by His hand who was,
And is, and shall be. Jordan, cut thy stream,
Make channels dry; I bear my Father's name
Stamped on my brow. I'm ravished with my crown;
I shine so bright, down with all glory, down,
That world can give. I see the peerless Port (Rev. xxi. 21),
The Golden Street, the blessed soul's Resort,
The Tree of Life. Floods gushing from the Throne,
Call me to joys. Begone, short woes begone;