Each word he spake, their grief to quell,
Seemed waters gushing from a well,
Whose fount was deep and clear.
In early years he mourned for sin,
And prayed for garments white and clean,
Washed in the Savior's blood.
He journeyed on for many years,
Amidst temptations, doubts, and fears,
But found a pard'ning God.
His lustrous eyes are dim in death,