Burial of a Friend

1 AS, bowed by sudden storms, the rose
      Sinks on the garden's breast,
   Down to the grave our brother goes,
      In silence there to rest.

2 No more with us his tuneful voice
      The hymn of praise shall swell;
   No more his cheerful heart rejoice
      When peals the Sabbath bell.

3 Yet, if, in yonder cloudless sphere,
      Amid a sinless throng,
   He utters in his Saviour's ear
      The everlasting song,—

4 No more we'll mourn the absent friend,
      But lift our earnest prayer,
   And daily every effort bend
      To rise and join him there.