 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
The Resting Place
In serious or in cheerful hours
My frequent footsteps wander by
The Churchyard nook of grass and flowers,
Where I shall lie.
My frequent footsteps wander by
The Churchyard nook of grass and flowers,
Where I shall lie.
Near it the chancel rises grey,
And drooping branches gently sigh,
And throw their shadows all the day
Where I shall lie.
And drooping branches gently sigh,
And throw their shadows all the day
Where I shall lie.
There long has slumbered precious dust,
O'er which our eyes were wont to weep,
Till sorrow merged in perfect trust—
Where I shall sleep.
O'er which our eyes were wont to weep,
Till sorrow merged in perfect trust—
Where I shall sleep.
And there on quiet Sabbath days
Is heard a murmur soft and deep,
The voice of common prayer and praise,
Where I shall sleep.
Is heard a murmur soft and deep,
The voice of common prayer and praise,
Where I shall sleep.
While overhead on happy wing
The birds flit by and build their nest,
And smooth their plumes and sweetly sing,
Where I shall rest.
The birds flit by and build their nest,
And smooth their plumes and sweetly sing,
Where I shall rest.
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And there sounds forth the Word divine,
And there are seen the Symbols blest,
That I am His and He is mine—
Where I shall rest.
And there are seen the Symbols blest,
That I am His and He is mine—
Where I shall rest.
So humbly trusting faithful Grace,
I pass with unaverted eyes
The peaceful, consecrated place
Whence I shall rise!
I pass with unaverted eyes
The peaceful, consecrated place
Whence I shall rise!
| Lyra Pastoralis | |