Believer. Welcome, friendly Death; That I have cause to fear? When thou shalt not be there. As armed by that shield That will save my nobler part. Death. Come away, frail man, And open now thy breast, And take thy mortal wound: Let friends do what they can, And physic do its best, They'll all too weak be found. Lay now aside thy mirth, I will give thee the fatal blow: Thou canst not save thy flesh : As being not the first, That hath pass'd through thy door. Thou shalt but help me home, When thou hast done thy worst; And thou shalt be no more : By drawing out my blood, And ease me of my grief: Death. Thy flesh I'll turn to clay, And leave thee in the grave. Make no longer stay, For come away thou must; It is in vain to crave: Clothed from head to feet, But with a winding-sheet, My prisoner thou shalt be; Bearing my loathsome mark, Thou shalt lie in the dark, And the face of no man see. Believer. Thou shalt but dig the ground, Where God his seed shall sow, And raise it at the spring: And there I shall be found, And Christ his own will know, And unto glory bring: When here I cease to live, Which thou shalt not destroy: Above the spangled skies, The grave also shall keep My dust in quiet sleep, Till the coming of my Lord: That flesh shall shine with God, That now is but a clod, And must lie as a thing abhorr❜d. Death. Thy merry days are gone; Thy life shall end in pain : And the world to thee shall end. Believer. Boast not, O conquer'd foe! For thou could'st have no strength, But what comes from my sin : My Lord will overthrow Thy power at the length; And will thy prisoners win: Thou couldst not keep my head, But he rose, and now doth reign: He'll take away thy sting, And endless life will bring, And with him shall I remain. How oft have I undress'd me, I do but go to rest me, And shall rise speedily; My Lord will not delay. When thou hast broke this shell, My soul with Christ shall dwell, And with saints and angels bright. This world is but the womb From which my soul must come Into the eternal light. And what though death be painful? The pain is quickly past! My soul shall soon be freed: My Lord shall make it gainful: The gain shall ever last; And joy shall grief succeed. And though the place seem strange, And nature fear a change; Yet I with Christ shall be. And when with him I dwell, I know I shall be well, And his glorious light shall see. Thou shalt but kill my sin, Thou shalt but let me in To see the blessed face And is it any loss To follow with my cross, Till I attain the crown? It's he that truly dies, And at last God will disown. I knew that from my birth I knew my flesh was earth; And here is not my rest. And yet thy threats defy. Have I long sought in pain, And would I not obtain, Joyful eternity? O feeble thing! How canst thou conquer Christ, By whom thou art employ'd : And fear a darksome grave. It's Christ that doth thee send, And him thou must obey: He is my dearest friend, And numb'reth with the blest? Why should not Death fulfil His good all-ruling will,— My spring, my guide, my rest? A DIRGE. [CROLY.] EARTH to earth, and dust to dust!" Here the evil and the just, Here the youthful and the old, |