Mrs. A.L.  Barbauld, 1773.

491 Rest.  L.M.

Death and Burial of a Christian. (1080)

Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb;
  Take this new treasure to thy trust
And give these sacred relics room,
  To slumber in the silent dust.

2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,
  Invades thy bounds; no mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
  While angels watch the soft repose.

3 So Jesus slept; God’s dying Son
  Passed through the grave, and blest the bed;
Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne
  The morning break, and pierce the shade.

4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn;
  Attend, O earth, his sovereign word;
Restore thy trust; a glorious form
  Shall then arise to meet the Lord.

     Isaac Watts, 1734.

492 Rest.  L.M.

The Fading Flower. (1084)

So fades the lovely, blooming flower—­
Frail smiling solace of an hour! 
So soon our transient comforts fly,
And pleasure only blooms to die.

2 Is there no kind, no lenient art,
To heal the anguish of the heart? 
Spirit of grace! be ever nigh,
Thy comforts are not made to die.

3 Bid gentle patience smile on pain, Till dying hope shall live again; Hope wipes the tear from sorrow’s eye And faith points upward to the sky.

     Anne Steele, 1760

493 China.  C.M.

We Are Confident. (1067)

Why do we mourn departing friends,
  Or shake at death’s alarms? 
’Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
  To call them to his arms.

2 Are we not tending upward, too,
  As fast as time can move? 
Nor would we wish the hours more slow,
  To keep us from our love.

3 Why should we tremble to convey
  Their bodies to the tomb? 
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
  And scattered all the gloom.

4 The graves of all the saints be blessed,
  And softened every bed;
Where should the dying members rest,
  But with the dying Head?

5 Thence he arose, ascending high,
  And showed our feet the way;
Up to the Lord we, too, shall fly
  At the great rising-day.

6 Then let the last loud trumpet sound,
  And bid our kindred rise;
Awake! ye nations under ground;
  Ye saints! ascend the skies.

     Isaac Watts, 1707.

494 China.  C.M.

Cheerful Submission to Death. (1065)

And let this feeble body fail,
  And let it faint or die;
My soul shall quit the mournful vale,
  And soar to worlds on high—­

2 Shall join the disembodied saints,
  And find its long-sought rest;
That only bliss for which it pants,
  In the Redeemer’s breast.

3 In hope of that immortal crown
  I now the cross sustain;
And gladly wander up and down,
  And smile at toil and pain.