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Dying Words of John Foster “I Can Pray, And That's a Glorious Thing.”
The dying Christian peaceful lay,
No more his hands could do;
No more his feet the earthly paths
Of duty could pursue.
No more his hands could do;
No more his feet the earthly paths
Of duty could pursue.
No more the Gospel's joyful sound
Could he to men proclaim;
To warn them of the strength of sin,
Make known a Savior's name!
Could he to men proclaim;
To warn them of the strength of sin,
Make known a Savior's name!
That all at length should hear his voice,
The dead should hear & live;
That God was love, a Father still,
And ready to forgive.
The dead should hear & live;
That God was love, a Father still,
And ready to forgive.
His earnest mind, so strong and clear
The realms of thought to scan,
No more, with steadfast will, could toil
To serve his fellow man.
The realms of thought to scan,
No more, with steadfast will, could toil
To serve his fellow man.
Where once was strength, was weakness now;
Weakness unknown before;
Yet with a spirit calm, resigned,
The change he meekly bore.
Weakness unknown before;
Yet with a spirit calm, resigned,
The change he meekly bore.
For in that Master's steps he trod,
Whom he so long had loved;
And faith in him sustained his soul,
And all-sufficient proved.
Whom he so long had loved;
And faith in him sustained his soul,
And all-sufficient proved.
“Still I can pray,” he cheerful said,
“And that's a glorious thing;”
“O Grave, where is thy victory?
O Death, where is thy sting?”
“And that's a glorious thing;”
“O Grave, where is thy victory?
O Death, where is thy sting?”
Poem No. 489; 1863
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