A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
Death! where is thy Sting?
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A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||
Death! where is thy Sting?
Where is thy sting, O Death!
Grave! where thy victory?
The clod may sleep in dust beneath,
The spirit will be free!
Grave! where thy victory?
The clod may sleep in dust beneath,
The spirit will be free!
Both Man and Time have power
O'er suffering, dying men;
But Death arrives, and in that hour
The soul is freed again.
O'er suffering, dying men;
But Death arrives, and in that hour
The soul is freed again.
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'Tis comforting to think,
When sufferings tire us most,
In the rough stream the bark will sink,
And suff'ring's power is lost.
When sufferings tire us most,
In the rough stream the bark will sink,
And suff'ring's power is lost.
Then, Death! where is thy sting?
And where thy victory, Grave?
O'er your dark bourn the soul will spring
To Him who loves to save.
And where thy victory, Grave?
O'er your dark bourn the soul will spring
To Him who loves to save.
A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||