One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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[It is not dying daunts the heart] |
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 | One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads |  |
39
[It is not dying daunts the heart]
“Surely the bitterness of death is past.”
It is not dying daunts the heart,
Who die to God forget the smart;
The sick full oft draw painful breath,
Yet, fear no bitterness of death—
No, 'tis the want the needy feel,
And their disgrace, whom none can heal;
Their anguish sore that walk in strife—
It is the bitterness of life.
Who die to God forget the smart;
The sick full oft draw painful breath,
Yet, fear no bitterness of death—
No, 'tis the want the needy feel,
And their disgrace, whom none can heal;
Their anguish sore that walk in strife—
It is the bitterness of life.
Thou hast spoil'd death, Lord of renown:
Man's life by man lies trodden down,
And who can lift his heart to Thee,
And swear, “of this guilt I am free”?
The darts by lost Apollyon hurl'd,
The weight, the labouring of the world,
These are not ours to bear, yet we
Have sinn'd in Thy sight, verily,—
Man's life by man lies trodden down,
And who can lift his heart to Thee,
And swear, “of this guilt I am free”?
The darts by lost Apollyon hurl'd,
The weight, the labouring of the world,
These are not ours to bear, yet we
Have sinn'd in Thy sight, verily,—
We and our fathers—we are nought,
So the world's woe transcends our thought;
But make us wise of heart and true,
The right to learn, the right to do;
For heaven Thy Church aspires and faints,
Sweet is the death, Lord, of Thy saints;
But teach them here to aid the strife,
And soothe the bitterness of life.
So the world's woe transcends our thought;
But make us wise of heart and true,
The right to learn, the right to do;
For heaven Thy Church aspires and faints,
Sweet is the death, Lord, of Thy saints;
But teach them here to aid the strife,
And soothe the bitterness of life.
| One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | |