Poems (David)/On the Death of Gilbert, Bishop of Chichester
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ON THE DEATH OF GILBERT, BISHOP OF CHICHESTER, WHO CONFIRMED ME.
COME home, dear patriarch, a gentle voice did cry,
Come home, to realms of purer bliss;—
Lay all thy poor frail mortal garments by,
To seek a holier world than this.
Come home, to realms of purer bliss;—
Lay all thy poor frail mortal garments by,
To seek a holier world than this.
There is a land of light beyond so fair,
A city mortal hand ne'er framed;
The Lamb of God in glory ruleth there,
And heaven's whole host adore His name!
A city mortal hand ne'er framed;
The Lamb of God in glory ruleth there,
And heaven's whole host adore His name!
Come home, dear patriarch, why should'st thou wait?
Thy Father's house hath room for thee:
Thou art His child, all cares of future fate
From thee His grace can free!
Thy Father's house hath room for thee:
Thou art His child, all cares of future fate
From thee His grace can free!
He calls for thee by ancient Jordan's stream,
Amidst the grey and wintry morn;
Lo! by that deed which sinful earth redeem'd,
He grants thee life for evermore!
Amidst the grey and wintry morn;
Lo! by that deed which sinful earth redeem'd,
He grants thee life for evermore!
Thou heard'st a voice so low and sweet,
Ye rose at morn to meet thy Lord:
In hope thou laid'st before His wounded feet
The varied fruits thy spirit bore!
Ye rose at morn to meet thy Lord:
In hope thou laid'st before His wounded feet
The varied fruits thy spirit bore!
For evermore thy gentle voice shall join
In saints' and angels' holy lay:—
Yes! with unwearied frame thy willing tongue
Shall bless the Lord thro' endless day!
In saints' and angels' holy lay:—
Yes! with unwearied frame thy willing tongue
Shall bless the Lord thro' endless day!
Oh! thou hast left a noble name behind,
To cheer us on our onward way;
Shining on men thro' fast and waning time,
To light us on to purer day!
To cheer us on our onward way;
Shining on men thro' fast and waning time,
To light us on to purer day!
All honour to thee, whose hand did know
The surest balance e'er to keep:—
Alike thy dearest friends and e'en thy foes,
O'er Gilbert's honour'd grave shall weep!
The surest balance e'er to keep:—
Alike thy dearest friends and e'en thy foes,
O'er Gilbert's honour'd grave shall weep!