Lo! the pain of life is past,
All his warfare now is o'er;
Death and hell behind are cast
Grief and suff'ring are no more.
"Yes! the Christian's course is run,
Ended is the glorious strife;
Fought the fight, the work is done,
Death is swallow'd up of life!
Borne by angels on their wings,
Far from earth the spirit flies,
Finds his God, and rests, and sings.
Triumphing in Paradise."
"The soul with Jesus rests above,
The body lies in gentle sleep;
Heart can warm heart in holy love,—
The peace of heav'n is pure and deep.
No more weigh'd down by pain and strife,
Her spirit is refresh'd and free;
After the battle-hour of life,
Saviour, she findeth rest in Thee!
"The weary body resteth here,
The dust in earth's dark bosom laid
Shall at the Saviour's voice appear,
In beauty and in strength array'd;
United with the spirit pure,
From the cold grave in glory rais'd,
That day of joy shall aye endure,
The Lamb shall evermore be prais'd."—C. B.
