Chapter XLVI: Hymn for the Dying

The day of life is closing,
Its last faint beam has fled;
Yet faith, on Christ reposing,
Can Death’s cold waters tread;
The dark sea spreads before me,
Upon the brink I stand;
Oh, guide me, Lord of Glory,
To Heaven’s blissful strand!
To Thee, Lord, I flee,
My trust is in Thee;
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory?”

No longer here detain me,
I hear my Saviour’s voice,
I feel His arm sustain me,
I triumph and rejoice!
The Lord will bless for ever
Those who His love have known,
Nor life, nor death shall sever
The Saviour from His own!
Victorious and free
His people shall be;
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory?”

XLVIL
DEATH IS NOT DREADFUL.

Death is not dreadful, no!
Though sad affection weeps,
The grave is but the cradle where
The future seraph sleeps,
And smiling Faith her watch above
The peaceful slumberer keeps.

Death is not dreadful, no!
’Twere terrible to die,
E’en to the best, if called to stand
Before the Deity
Bare in their guilt,—without a friend
To meet the Judge’s eye.

But oh! the weakest saint
May fearless pass the flood,
His robe shall shine as white as light
Washed in his Saviour’s blood;
The Judge Himself shall plead his cause,
Who as his Surety stood.

Death is not dreadful, no!
It bids us reap at last
The joyful harvest of our tears,
Our toils and trials past;
It gives us our inheritance,
How glorious and how vast!

Death is not dreadful, no!
It is the Saviour’s voice
Calling His lambs unto the fold;
They hear it, and rejoice:
In life or death “to be with Christ”
This is His servants’ choice.

So, when the long night comes,
In peace they close their eyes,
Humbly confiding in His care
Whose love all change defies,—
Bowing to His Almighty will,
All-merciful, All-wise.

Then welcome be the night
Preceding endless day,
Thrice blessed the Gospel’s glorious light,
That chased its gloom away,
And showed us life beyond the tomb
In Christ, the sinner’s Stay.