From the burden of the flesh, And from care and fear released, 2 Sin can never taint thee now, Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ And there thou 'rt sure to meet the good, 3 "Earth to earth," and "dust to dust," Among the faithful blest, Where the wicked cease from troubling, 162 P. M. BISHOP HEBER. Funeral Hymn. 1 THOU art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore Though sorrows and darkness thee; tomb, encompass the The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee, And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom. 2 Thou art gone to the grave; we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side; But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, since the Sinless has died. 3 Thou art gone to the grave, and, its mansions for saking, Perhaps thy tried spirit in doubt lingered long; But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking, And the song that thou heardst was the seraphim’s song. 4 Thou art gone to the grave, but 't were wrong to deplore thee, He When God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and guide; gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee, Where death has no sting, since the Saviour has died. 163 WILSON. 164 S. M. Death of a Young Girl. 1 WHAT though the stream be dead, It murmureth now o'er a lovelier bed, 2 What though our bird of light 3 True that our beauteous doe But purer now, in heavenly snow, 4 0, star untimely set! Why should we weep for thee? C. M. Consolations in Bereavement. WILSON 1 THE air of death breathes through our souls, By day and night the death-bell tolls, 2 The loving ones we loved the best And the wan moonlight bathes in rest 3 But not when the death-prayer is said, The life of life departs; The body in the grave is laid, 4 At holy midnight voices sweet 5 We know who sends the visions bright; From whose dear side they came ! We veil our eyes before thy light, 6 This frame, O God, this feeble breath, 7 Dim is the light of vanished years When Jesus calls us home. 165 C. M. MRS. HEMANS 166 Death of the Young. 1 CALM on the bosom of thy God, 2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath! They that have seen thy look in death 3 Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers, But, O, a brighter home than ours 1 ALAS the vale where tears run o'er, The sorrow and the strife; The burden of the flesh so sorc 2 And yet we would not cast it off For simple nakedness, Nor even earth's poor garments doff |