Death of a Pastor

1 PASTOR, thou art from us taken
      In the glory of thy years,
  As the oak, by tempests shaken,
      Falls ere time its verdure sears.

2 Pale and cold we see thee lying
      In God's temple, once so dear.
  And the mourners' bitter sighing
      Falls unheeded on thine ear.

3 All thy love and zeal, to lead us
      Where immortal fountains flow,
  And on living bread to feed us,
      In our fond remembrance glow.

4 May the conquering faith, that cheered thee
      When thy foot on Jordan pressed,
  Guide our spirits while we leave thee
      In the tomb that Jesus blessed.