The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet, Who walk with us no more. 6 A-men. 1 I T singeth low in every heart, A song of those who answer not, They throng the silence of the breast, The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet, 2 'Tis hard to take the burden up, When these have laid it down; They brightened all the joy of life, They softened every frown: But oh, 'tis good to think of them, 3 More homelike seems the vast unknown, Wherever they may fare; They cannot be where God is not, John W. Chadwick, 1876 RUTHERFORD 7. 6. 7. 6. 7. 6. 7. 5. Arr. from Chrétien Urhan, 1834, by Edw. F. Rimbault, 1867 The sands of time are sinking, The dawn of heaven breaks, : 4 The sum - mer morn I've sighed for, The fair sweet morn a wakes; LEOMINSTER S. M. D. George W. Martin, 1862; har, by Arthur Sullivan, 1874 1 "FOR ever with the Lord!" Amen so let it be! Life from the dead is in that word, 'Tis immortality. Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home. 2 My Father's house on high, Home of my soul, how near, At times, to faith's foreseeing eye To reach the land I love, 3 I hear at morn and even, At noon and midnight hour, The choral harmonies of heaven, Earth's Babel-tongues o'erpower. Then, then I feel that He, 4 "For ever with the Lord!" The promise of that faithful word, 5 So when my latest breath Shall rend the veil in twain, How shall I love that word, And oft repeat before the throne, "For ever with the Lord!" James Montgomery, 1835 PILGRIMS 11. 10. 11. 10. 9. 11. 48 Henry Smart, 1868 Hark,hark,my soul, angelic songs are swelling O'er earth's green fields and o-cean's wave-beat shore: How sweet the truth those bless- ed strains are telling Angels of light, Sing-ing to wel- come the pil-grims of the night! A-men. 1 ARK, hark, my soul, angelic songs are 3 Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, HA swelling O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore: The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea; And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee. How sweet the truth those blessèd strains are 4 Rest comes at length: though life be long and telling Of that new life when sin shall be no more! Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night! 2 Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, "Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come," And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, The music of the gospel leads us home. dreary, The day must dawn and darksome night be past; All journeys end in welcomes to the weary, And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last. 5 Angels, sing on, your faithful watches keeping; Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; Till morning's joy shall end the night of weeping, And life's long shadows break in cloudless love. Frederick W. Faber, 1854: v. 5, lines 3, 4, alt. |