 | Love's Last Labour Not Lost |  |
210
[Sleep in thy Father's clay-cold arms and breast]
Sleep in thy Father's clay-cold arms and breast
Till the Last Trumpet wake thee from thy rest.
Life's little day
Of innocence and joy hath passed away.
Till the Last Trumpet wake thee from thy rest.
Life's little day
Of innocence and joy hath passed away.
To thee was known one parent—only one—
Ere thy brief race began thy sire's was run—
In manhood's prime
His mission calmly closed with earth and time.
Ere thy brief race began thy sire's was run—
In manhood's prime
His mission calmly closed with earth and time.
Sin never sullied thee—without a stain
Thy spirit to thy God returns again.
What higher bliss
Hath Heaven in store for those it loves than this?
Thy spirit to thy God returns again.
What higher bliss
Hath Heaven in store for those it loves than this?
| Love's Last Labour Not Lost | |