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ON THE DEATH OF REV. WM. FLINT, D. D.
We mourn bereaved, the silver cord is broken,
The glass is dim through which we darkly see;
But words of cheer which thou in life hast spoken
Of endless joys, now bring us nearer thee.
The glass is dim through which we darkly see;
But words of cheer which thou in life hast spoken
Of endless joys, now bring us nearer thee.
And while we weep for thee, thou loved departed,
We see, though dimly, near the Father's throne
Thy -form of light;where sorrow's clouds are parted
Soft echoes come, we list each thrilling tone.
Never again may tender words awaken
"The heart that death so suddenly has stilled;
As thou didst plead, now plead for us in heaven,
Our cup on earth with bitterness is filled.
We see, though dimly, near the Father's throne
Thy -form of light;where sorrow's clouds are parted
Soft echoes come, we list each thrilling tone.
Never again may tender words awaken
"The heart that death so suddenly has stilled;
As thou didst plead, now plead for us in heaven,
Our cup on earth with bitterness is filled.
Spring flowers may bloom, but worthless they to gladden,
And song-birds, too, we ever loved to hear;
But song and flowers tend only now to sadden,
So freshly poured in grief upon thy bier;
A glorious thought comes oft while we are grieving,
That thou wilt ope for us the golden door;
Thy death, so full of faith, our fears relieving,
That we should weep, beloved, for thee no more.
And song-birds, too, we ever loved to hear;
But song and flowers tend only now to sadden,
So freshly poured in grief upon thy bier;
A glorious thought comes oft while we are grieving,
That thou wilt ope for us the golden door;
Thy death, so full of faith, our fears relieving,
That we should weep, beloved, for thee no more.
