My face, why should'st thou troubled be
When thou of death art hearing?
Know it, it cannot injure thee,
Contemplate it, ne'er fearing.
When thou dost know
Death, all its woe
Will soon be disappearing.

From the old serpent's face first tear
The mask he is assuming,
And lo! no poison more is there,
'Tis harmless through the coming
Of Christ to save,
Who to the grave
Went down, death thus o'ercoming.

Thou, Lord, didst break our foe's great pow'r,
His sting thus from him taking,
The butt of scorn he's evermore,
No mischief can be making.
Thy precious blood
Damps his hot mood,
His ardour's him forsaking.

'Twas sin that was the sting of death,
And on to dying drove us,
For ever done away sin hath
Our Saviour, who did love us.
Its pow'r and might
Is broken quite,
Though it to grief may move us.

Now sin is dead, God's anger's turn'd,
He's reconcil'd; the Saviour
Hath borne the curse our debts had earn'd,
Restor'd us to God's favour.
Who was our foe
Our friend is now,
Is full of grace for ever.

It cannot be, if Thou'rt my friend,
That Thou would'st kill me ever;
Thy Father's heart can ne'er intend
To death me to deliver,
And who is e'er
Thy child and heir
By ill is injur'd never.

But Thou, O Father! doest well
When trials sore are grieving,
When misery the life doth fill,
The waves around us heaving,
That us Thy hand
To Fatherland
Brings, from the floods relieving.

When from the angry skies storms break,
And mountains quake before them,
The thunder of Thy wrath doth shake
The hills, and pealeth o'er them,
Then dost Thou come
And takest home
Thine own, Thou carest for them.

When rage around our enemies,
Our injury are seeking,
When lions, wolves, and bears arise,
Their vengeance on us wreaking,
Thou tak'st Thy sheep,
Dost safely keep
Them near Thee, comfort speaking.

And if the world treats evilly
Him who to Thee is cleaving,
Thou sayest, "Come to me, my son!
Come, from me be receiving
Love, pleasure, joy,
That never cloy,
That I for aye am giving."

And angel hosts then joyfully
Descend, and round us hover,
And tend the soul so carefully;
And when life's course is over
To God on high
It peacefully
Goes with them 'neath their cover.

The Lord His bride meets joyfully
And saith, "Now welcome ever,
I have espoused thee to me,
To all mine own come hither!
Whom I 'fore thee
Have brought to me,
From yon world did deliver.

"Thou true and faithful wast in heart,
Wast ne'er asham'd to own me,
And now receivest thou thy part,
With crown of joy I crown thee.
Thy part am I,
Eternally
Beside me I enthrone thee.

"Of thine eyes now I dry the flood,
Thy bitter tears am stilling;
Here turn'd is to thy highest good,
The grief thou once wert feeling;
Of thy grief's sea
No one shall be
Here save with rapture telling.

"All my belov'd ones clothe I here
In pure white linen ever,
With joy in heaven they appear,
Here envy felt is never.
Here is no death,
No cross nor scath,
Good friends at all can sever."

O God! why should the thought of death
With terror make me shiver?
'Tis he who'll from the yoke beneath
Of mis'ry me deliver.
From torture He
Will set me free,
I can regret it never.

For death is the Red Sea to me,
Through which on dry land ever
Thine Israel, so dear to Thee,
Pass to the land of favour,
Where milk and wine
Flow ever in
Full streams that cease shall never.

It is heav'n's golden door to me,
The fiery car God sendeth,
Wherein my spirit speedily
To th' angel choir ascendeth,
When God shall say
"Thy working day
Of life below now endeth."

O sweetest joy, O blessed rest!
To all true-hearted given,
Come, let mine eyes by Thee be press'd,
In peace take me to heaven.
May I roam there
'Mong pastures fair
Where day ne'er knoweth even.

What fails us here, there will He give,
Full measure to us bringing,
Our grateful songs shall He receive,
From loving hearts up-springing.
And there shall I
Too, willingly
Song after song be singing.

JOYFUL RESIGNATION TO A HAPPY DEPARTURE FROM THIS WEARY WORLD.

Be glad, my heart! now fear no more,
Let nothing ever grieve thee;
Christ lives, who lov'd thee long before
Thy being He did give thee,
And ere He made thy wondrous frame;
His love remaineth still the same,
It ne'er can change to hatred.

Be of good cheer! thy nearing end,
My heart! need not appal thee,
No ill's in it; God doth extend,
His loving hand and call thee
From all the thousand forms of woe
That in this vale of tears below,
Thou ever hast endured.

'Tis true, 'tis call'd death's agony,
But yet it is no dying;
The death of death is Christ, for He
Prevents it from destroying,
That though it puts forth all its pow'r,
No hair it hurteth in the hour
When I from hence am taken.

The sting of death in sin doth lie,
And in our evil doing;
Poor child of Adam! eagerly
This path was I pursuing.
In Christ's blood sin is wash'd away,
Forgiven are we now for aye,
Ne'er fall in condemnation.

My sin is gone, and I am clean,
Whoever would deprive me,
Henceforth is life eternal mine;
The thought may never grieve me
Of sin's dread wages earn'd by me;
Who's reconcil'd, must ever be,
Unhurt by opposition.

Now God's free grace I with me take,
And all His joy and gladness,
On this last journey that I make,
And know no grief nor sadness.
The foe becomes to me a sheep,
His ire becomes a blessed sleep,
Of quiet rest the pillow.

Thou Jesus! O thou sweetest Friend,
My light and life art ever!
Thou holdest me, dost me defend,
The foe can move Thee never.
In Thee I am, Thou art in me,
As we are here, we'll ever be,
Nought here or there can part us.

My body down to rest doth lie,
Fatigued with life's sad story;
The soul then mounteth up on high,
With chosen ones in glory
It mingles, and keeps joyfully,
The endless year of Jubilee
With all the holy angels.

Oh! Highest Prince of great and small,
May that bless'd day be nearing;
When Thou shalt by Thy trumpet call,
And all the dead be hearing.
Again shall soul and body be
One, and Thy joy shall taste and see,
Thy Father's kingdom enter.

If 'tis Thy will, O Lord, appear,
To peace and bliss to take me
For ever, Thee may I be near,
How joyful would it make me!
Be open'd wide -- of death, thou gate!
That to so bliss'd place and state
Through thee I may pass over.

THE BEREAVED FATHER COMFORTS HIMSELF CONCERNING HIS NOW SAINTED SON.

Mine art thou still, and mine shalt be,
Who will be this denying?
Not only thou belong'st to me,
The Lord of Life undying
The greatest right hath aye in thee;
He taketh, He demands from me
Thee, O my son, my treasure,
My heart's delight and pleasure!

If wish avail'd, my soul's sweet star!
My free choice would I make thee,
Than earth's fair treasures rather far,
I evermore would take thee.
Would say to thee, Abide with me,
The joy of all my dwelling be,
I ever more shall love thee,
Till death itself remove me.

Thus saith my heart, and meaneth well,
But God doth mean still better;
Great love doth in my bosom dwell,
In God there dwelleth greater.
I am a father, nothing more,
Of fathers God's the crown and pow'r,
The fountain who is giving
Their being to all living.

I long and yearn for my dear son;
God, by whom he was given,
Wills he should stand beside His throne,
Should live with Him in heaven.
I say, Alas! my light is gone!
God saith, "I welcome thee, my son,
I'd have thee ever near me,
With endless joys would cheer thee!"

O lovely word! O sweet decree!
More holy than we ever
Can think; with God no ill can be,
Mischance, or sickness never,
No care, no want, no oversight,
With God no sorrow e'er can blight;
Whom God cares for and loveth
No trouble ever moveth.

We men much thought and time expend
On our dear ones' adorning;
Our thoughts and efforts ever bend,
Are planning night and morning
To gain for them a happy place;
And yet how seldom 'tis the case
They reach the destination
We had in contemplation.

How oft a young and hopeful one
From virtue's path far roameth,
By him through ill example's done
What Christians ne'er becometh.
Then God's just anger doth he earn,
On earth he meeteth scoffs and scorn,
His father's heart he filleth
With pain that nothing stilleth.

Now such can never be my case,
My son is safely yonder,
Appeareth now before God's face,
Doth in Christ's garden wander,
Is fill'd with joy, is ever bless'd,
And from heart-sorrow doth he rest,
Sees, hears the hosts so glorious
Who here are watching o'er us.

He angels yonder hears and sees,
Part in their songs he taketh,
And knows all wisdom's mysteries;
His high discourse he maketh
What none of us can ever know
With all our searching here below,
To none on earth 'tis given,
Reserv'd it is for Heaven.

Ah! could I even draw so near,
Could it to me be given
The faintest sounds of praise to hear
That fill the courts of Heaven,
When prais'd is the thrice holy One,
Who thee hath sanctified, my son!
Joy would my heart be swelling,
Tears from mine eyes be welling.

Would I then say, Stay with me here,
Henceforth I'll murmur never;
Alas! my son! wert thou but near!
No, but come quickly hither
Thou fiery car, and take me where
My child and all the blessed are,
Who speak of things so glorious,
O'er every ill victorious.

Now be it so, I'd have it so,
I'll never more deplore thee;
Thou liv'st, pure joys thy heart o'erflow,
Bright suns shine ever o'er thee,
The suns of endless joy and rest.
Live then, and be for ever bless'd,
I shall, when God wills, yonder
In bliss hereafter wander.