Where Christ is transfigured yet again,
Where earth will fade in the vision sweet,
And the soul press on with wingèd feet.
"Nothing to do?" and thy Saviour said,
"Follow thou me in the path I tread."
Lord, lend thy help the journey through,
Lest, faint, we cry, "So much to do!"
—Unidentified.
DEATH.
When death is drawing near,