The Death of a Christian
How lovely is death, when, on Jesus reposing,
The soul can her trust in his mercy display:
When scenes of affliction and anguish are closing,
And angels stand waiting to bear her away!
She fears not fell Death, as the tyrant advances;
Her trust is in One who is mighty to save:
Faith points at her Saviour, and, as her eye glances,
She view a bright star through the gates of the grave.
By songs full of mercy her rapt ear is charm’d;
Display’d to her view are the portals above:
The monster, of all of his dread terrors disarm’d;
Mortality closes in triumph and love.
The conflict is ended. While weeping friends gather
Around the departed, their loss they bewail:
The soul she is borne to the arms of a Father,
Where seraphim wait her arrival to hail.