DEATH AND BURIAL.

527

L. M.

Lord Jesus Christ, true man and God,

Who borest anguish, scorn, the rod,

And diedst at last upon the tree

To gain Thy Father’s grace for me:

2. I pray Thee, through that bitter woe,

Let me, a sinner, mercy know

When comes the hour of failing breath

And I must wrestle, Lord, with death;

3. When from my sight all fades away,

And when my tongue no more can say,

And when mine ears no more can hear,

And when my heart is racked with fear;

4. When all my mind is darkened o’er,

And human help can do no more;—

Then come, Lord Jesus, come with speed,

And help me in the hour of need.

5. Lead me from this dark vale beneath

And shorten then the pangs of death;

All evil spirits drive away,

But let Thy Spirit with me stay,

6. Until my soul the body leave;

Then in Thy hands my soul receive

And let the earth the body keep

Till the Last Day shall break its sleep.

7. Joyful my resurrection be,

Thou in the Judgment plead for me

And hide my sins, Lord, from Thy face

And give me life, of Thy dear grace!

8. Implicitly I trust Thee, Lord,

For Thou hast promised in Thy Word:

“In truth I tell you, who receives

My Word, and keeps it, and believes,

9. “Shall never fall God’s wrath beneath,

Shall never taste eternal death;

Though here he must return to dust,

He still is noways therefore lost;

10. “For I will with a mighty hand

Deliver him from death’s strong band

And lift him hence that he shall be

Forever in My realm with Me,

11. “Forever living there in bliss.”

Oh, let us not that glory miss!

Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt,

Help us to wait until Thou wilt

12. That we depart; and let our faith

Be brave and conquer e’en in death,

Firm resting in Thy sacred Word

Until we sleep in Thee, our Lord.

Paul Eber, 1565; C. Winkworth, tr., 1855.

528

8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 8, 7

When my last hour is close at hand

And I must hence betake me,

Lord Jesus Christ, beside me stand,

Nor let Thy help forsake me;

To Thy blest hands I now commend

My soul, at this my earthly end,

And Thou wilt safely keep it.

2. My sins, dear Lord, disturb me sore,

My conscience cannot slumber;

But though as sands upon the shore

My sins may be in number,

I will not quail, but think of Thee;

Thy death, Thy sorrow, borne for me,

Thy sufferings, shall uphold me.

3. I have been grafted in the Vine

And hence my comfort borrow,

For Thou wilt surely keep me Thine

Through fear and pain and sorrow;

Yea, though I die, I die to Thee,

Who through Thy death hast won for me

The right to life eternal.

4. Since Thou from death didst rise again,

In death Thou wilt not leave me;

Lord, Thy ascension soothes my pain,

No fear of death shall grieve me;

For Thou wilt have me where Thou art,

And so with joy I can depart

To be with Thee forever.

5. And so I stretch mine arms to Thee

And gladly hence betake me;

Peaceful and calm my sleep shall be,

No human voice can wake me.

But Christ is with me through the strife,

And He will bear me into life

And open heaven before me.

Nikolaus Herman, 1560; C. Winkworth, tr., a.

529

7, 6, 7, 6

For me to live is Jesus,

To die is gain for me,

To Him I gladly yield me

And die right cheerfully.

2. From hence I go with gladness

To Christ my Brother’s side

That I may soon be with Him

And e’er with Him abide.

3. I have o’ercome life’s crosses;

Grief, pain, and sorrow cease;

Through His five wounds most holy

With God I am at peace.

4. When all my powers are breaking,

My breath comes heavily,

Nor word more I can utter,

Lord, hear my sighs to Thee!

5. When reason, sense, and thinking

Fail like a flickering light,

That to and fro doth waver

Ere ’tis extinguished quite,

6. Then let me softly, gently,

Lord, fall asleep in Thee,

When by Thy will and counsel

My last hour comes to me.

7. As to the oak the ivy,

So let me cleave to Thee

And live in heavenly glory

With Thee eternally.

8. Amen! This wilt Thou, Jesus,

Grant graciously to me;

Endow me with Thy Spirit

That I die happily.

Anon., 1609; E. Cronenwett, tr., 1880.

530

8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 8, 7, 7

Hark! a voice saith, “All are mortal.”

Yea, all flesh must fade as grass,

Only through death’s gloomy portal

To a better land we pass;

This frail body here must perish

Ere the heavenly joys it cherish,

Ere it gain the free reward

For the ransomed of the Lord.

2. Therefore, when my God doth choose it,

Willingly I’ll yield my life,

Nor will grieve that I should lose it,

For with sorrows it was rife;

In my dear Redeemer’s merit

Peace hath found my troubled spirit,

And in death my comfort is

Jesus’ death—sweet comfort this!

3. For my sake He went before me,

And His death is now my gain;

Peace and hope He conquered for me;

So without regret or pain,

Yea, with joy I’ll quit earth’s sadness

For the beauteous heaven of gladness,

Where I shall eternally

See the holy Trinity.

4. There is joy beyond our telling,

Where so many saints have gone;

Thousands, thousands, there are dwelling,

Worshiping before the throne;

There the seraphim are shining,

Evermore in chorus joining:

“Holy, holy, holy, Lord!

Triune God, for aye adored!”

5. There great men, of sacred story,

Prophets, patriarchs, are met;

There apostles, too, in glory

Fill twelve thrones by Jesus set;

All the saints that have ascended

Age on age, through time extended,

There in blissful concert sing

Hallelujahs to their King.

6. O Jerusalem, how glorious

Dost thou shine, thou city fair!

Lo! I hear the tones victorious

Ever sweetly sounding there!

O the bliss that there surprises!

Lo! the sun of morn now rises,

And the breaking day I see

That shall never end for me!

7. Yea, I see what here was told me,

See that wondrous glory shine;

Feel the spotless robes enfold me,

Know a golden crown is mine.

Thus before the throne so glorious

Now I stand, a soul victorious,

Gazing on that joy for aye

That shall never pass away.

J. G. Albinus, 1652; C. Winkworth, 1863, a.

531

S. M.

One sweetly solemn thought

Comes to me o’er and o’er,—

Nearer my home to-day am I

Than e’er I’ve been before;

2. Nearer my Father’s house,

Where many mansions be;

Nearer to-day the great white throne;

Nearer the crystal sea;

3. Nearer the bound of life

Where burdens are laid down;

Nearer to leave the heavy cross;

Nearer to gain the crown.

4. But, lying dark between,

Winding down through the night,

There rolls the silent, unknown stream

That leads at last to light.

5. E’en now, perchance, my feet

Are slipping on the brink,

And I to-day am nearer home,

Nearer than now I think.

6. Father, perfect my trust;

Strengthen my spirit’s faith;

Nor let me stand at last alone

Upon the shore of death.

Phoebe Cary, 1852.

532

7, 6, 8 l

Farewell! I say with gladness,

False, evil world, farewell!

Thy life is sin and sadness,

With thee I would not dwell;

In heaven are better pleasures,

I long for that bright sphere

Where God grants endless treasures

To those that served Him here.

2. Do with me as it pleases

Thy heart, O Son of God!

When anguish on me seizes,

Help me to bear my load;

Nor then my sorrows lengthen,

But take me hence on high;

My fearful spirit strengthen

And let me calmly die.

3. When all around is darkling,

Thy name and cross, still bright,

Deep in my heart are sparkling

Like stars in blackest night.

Appear Thou in Thy sorrow,

For Thine was woe indeed,

And from Thy cross I borrow

All comfort heart can need.

4. Thou diedst for me,—O hide me

When tempests round me roll;

Through all my foes, O guide me,

Receive my trembling soul.

If I but grasp Thee firmer,

What matters pain when past?

Hath he a cause to murmur

Who reaches heaven at last?

5. O write my name, I pray Thee,

Now in the book of life;

So let me here obey Thee

And there, where joys are rife,

Forever bloom before Thee,

Thy perfect freedom prove,

And tell, as I adore Thee,

How faithful was Thy love.

V. Herberger, 1613; C. Winkworth, tr., a.

533

S. M.

It is not death to die,

To leave this weary road,

And midst the brotherhood on high

To be at home with God.

2. It is not death to close

The eye long dimmed by tears

And wake in glorious repose

To spend eternal years.

3. It is not death to bear

The wrench that sets us free

From dungeon chain, to breathe the air

Of boundless liberty.

4. It is not death to fling

Aside this sinful dust

And rise, on strong, exulting wing,

To live among the just.

5. Jesus, Thou Prince of Life,

Thy chosen cannot die;

Like Thee, they conquer in the strife

To reign with Thee on high.

M. A. C. Malan, 1832; G. W. Bethune, tr., 1847.

534

S. M.

And must this body die,

This mortal frame decay?

And must these active limbs of mine

Lie moldering in the clay?

2. God, my Redeemer, lives

And ever from the skies

Looks down and watches all my dust

Till He shall bid it rise.

3. Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine

And every shape and every face

Look heavenly and divine.

4. These lively hopes we owe

To Jesus’ dying love;

We would adore His grace below

And sing His power above.

5. Dear Lord, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs

Till tunes of nobler sound we raise

With our immortal tongues.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

535

11s

I would not live alway; I ask not to stay

Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way;

The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here

Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer.

2. I would not live alway; thus fettered by sin,

Temptation without and corruption within;

E’en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears

And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.

3. I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb;

Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom.

There sweet be my rest till He bid me arise

To hail Him in triumph descending the skies.

4. Who, who would live alway, away from his God?

Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns;

5. Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,

Their Savior and brethren transported to greet,

While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll

And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul?

W. A. Muehlenberg, 1826.

536

Hark! a voice divides the sky:

Happy are the faithful dead,

In the Lord who sweetly die;

They from all their toils are freed.

2. Them the Spirit hath declared

Blest, unutterably blest;

Jesus is their great Reward,

Jesus is their endless Rest.

3. Followed by their works, they go

Where their Head had gone before;

Reconciled by grace below,

Grace hath opened mercy’s door.

4. Justified through faith alone,

Here they knew their sins forgiven;

Here they laid their burden down,

Hallowed and made meet for heaven.

5. When from flesh the spirit freed,

Hastens homeward to return,

Mortals cry, “A man is dead!”

Angels sing, “A child is born!”

Charles Wesley, 1742.

537

7, 8, 7, 8, 7, 7

Gentle Shepherd, Thou hast stilled

Now Thy little lamb’s brief weeping;

Ah! how peaceful, pale, and mild,

In its narrow bed ’tis sleeping,

And no sigh of anguish sore

Heaves that little bosom more.

2. In this world of care and pain,

Lord, Thou wouldst no longer leave it;

To the sunny, heavenly plain

Dost Thou now with joy receive it;

Clothed in robes of spotless white,

Now it dwells with Thee in light.

3. Ah, Lord Jesus, grant that we

Where it lives may soon be living,

And the lovely pastures see

That its heavenly food are giving;

Then the gain of death we prove

Though Thou take what most we love.

J. W. Meinhold, 1835; C. Winkworth, tr., 1853.

538

L. M.

Now lay we calmly in the grave

This form, whereof no doubt we have

That it shall rise again that day

In glorious triumph o’er decay.

2. And so to earth again we trust

What came from dust and turns to dust

And from the dust shall surely rise

When the last trumpet fills the skies.

3. His soul forever lives in God,

Whose grace his pardon hath bestowed,

Who through His Son redeemed him here

From bondage unto sin and fear.

4. His trials and his griefs are past;

A blessed end is his at last;

He bore Christ’s yoke and did His will;

And though he died, he liveth still.

5. He lives where none do mourn and weep,

And calmly shall his body sleep.

’Tis God shall death Himself destroy

And raise it into glorious joy.

6. He suffered pain and grief below,

Christ heals him now from all his woe.

For him hath endless joy begun;

He shines in glory like the sun.

7. Then let us leave him to his rest

And homeward turn, for he is blest;

And we must well our souls prepare,

For death may seize us everywhere.

8. So help us, Christ, our Hope in loss;

Thou hast redeemed us by Thy cross

From endless death and misery;

We praise, we bless, we worship Thee.

M. Weiss, 1531; Stanza 8, Martin Luther; C. Winkworth, tr., a.

539

L. M.

Now hush your cries and shed no tear,

On such death none should look with fear;

He died a faithful Christian man,

And with his death true life began.

2. Coffin and grave we deck with care,

His body reverently bear;

It is not dead, but rests in God

And softly sleeps beneath the sod.

3. It seems as all were over now,—

The heavy limbs, the soulless brow,—

Yet through these rigid limbs once more

A noble life ere long shall pour.

4. These bones, now dead, again shall feel

New warmth and vigor through them steal,

And reunited they shall soar

On high to live forevermore.

5. This body, lying stiff and stark,

Shall soon rise upward from the dark

And swiftly mount up to the skies,

E’en as the spirit heavenward flies.

6. The buried grain of wheat must die,

Withered and worthless long must lie,

Yet springs to light all sweet and fair

And proper fruits shall rightly bear.

7. E’en so this body, made of dust,

To earth we once again entrust,

Where it shall slumber free from pain

Till from the dead it rise again.

8. God breathed into this house of clay

The spirit that hath passed away;

The righteous mind, the noble heart,

The living faith, did Christ impart.

9. Now earth has hid it from our eyes

Till God shall bid it wake and rise,

Who ne’er the creature will forget,

On whom His image He hath set.

10. Ah, would that promised day were here

When Christ will once again appear

And bring them to their heavenly home

Who have been buried in the tomb!

“Deus, ignee fons animarum.” Tr. from the German, C. Winkworth, 1856.

540

L. M.

Asleep in Jesus! Blessed sleep,

From which none ever wakes to weep;

A calm and undisturbed repose,

Unbroken by the last of foes.

2. Asleep in Jesus! Oh, how sweet

To be for such a slumber meet,

With holy confidence to sing

That death has lost his venomed sting.

3. Asleep in Jesus! Peaceful rest,

Whose waking is supremely blest;

No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour

That manifests the Savior’s power.

4. Asleep in Jesus! Oh, for me

May such a blissful refuge be!

Securely shall my ashes lie

And wait the summons from on high.

Margaret Mackay, 1832, abr.

541

S. M.

Jesus, I live to Thee,

The Loveliest and Best;

My life in Thee, Thy life in me,

In Thy blest love I rest.

2. Jesus, I die to Thee

Whenever death shall come;

To die in Thee is life to me

In my eternal home.

3. Whether to live or die,

I know not which is best;

To live in Thee is bliss to me,

To die is endless rest.

4. Living or dying, Lord;

I ask but to be Thine;

My life in Thee, Thy life in me,

Make heaven forever mine!

H. Harbaugh, 1850.

542

C. M.

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 He blessed

And softened every bed;

Where should the dying members rest

But with their 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, 1709.

543

L. M. 6 l

O Lord, my God, I cry to Thee,

In my distress Thou helpest me.

My soul and body I commend

Into Thy hands; Thine angel send

To guide me home and cheer my heart

Since Thou dost call me to depart.

2. O Jesus Christ, Thou Lamb of God,

Once slain to take away our load,

Now let Thy cross, Thine agony,

Avail to save and solace me;

Thy death to open heaven and there

Bid me the joy of angels share.

3. O Holy Spirit, at the end,

Sweet Comforter, be Thou my Friend,

When death and hell assail me sore,

Leave me, O leave me nevermore,

But bear me safely through the strife,

As Thou hast promised, into life.

N. Selnecker, † 1592; C. Winkworth, tr., a.

544

8s 6 l

Who knows how near my end may be?

Time speeds away, and death comes on;

How swiftly, ah, how suddenly,

May death be here and life be gone!

My God, for Jesus’ sake I pray