Sleep sweetly here, thou precious dust;
Grave, be thou faithful to thy trust,
Till Jesus calls and bids thee rise;
Then join thy spirit in the skies.”
“Each day of life demands a night’s repose,
And death is but a well-proportioned sleep;
So thy sweet life hath reached its destined close,
And wearied nature now her rest doth keep,
Waiting the dawn of a celestial morn;
For thou, loved sleeper, in thy day didst lend