Chapter M: A. C. Malan, 1832; G. W. Bethune, tr., 1847

534

S. M.

And must this body die,
This mortal frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie moldering in the clay?

2. God, my Redeemer, lives
And ever from the skies
Looks down and watches all my dust
Till He shall bid it rise.

3. Arrayed in glorious grace
Shall these vile bodies shine
And every shape and every face
Look heavenly and divine.

4. These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus’ dying love;
We would adore His grace below
And sing His power above.

5. Dear Lord, accept the praise
Of these our humble songs
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

535

11s

I would not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way;
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here
Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer.

2. I would not live alway; thus fettered by sin,
Temptation without and corruption within;
E’en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.

3. I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb;
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom.
There sweet be my rest till He bid me arise
To hail Him in triumph descending the skies.

4. Who, who would live alway, away from his God?
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns;

5. Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Savior and brethren transported to greet,
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul?

W. A. Muehlenberg, 1826.

536

7s

Hark! a voice divides the sky:
Happy are the faithful dead,
In the Lord who sweetly die;
They from all their toils are freed.

2. Them the Spirit hath declared
Blest, unutterably blest;
Jesus is their great Reward,
Jesus is their endless Rest.

3. Followed by their works, they go
Where their Head had gone before;
Reconciled by grace below,
Grace hath opened mercy’s door.

4. Justified through faith alone,
Here they knew their sins forgiven;
Here they laid their burden down,
Hallowed and made meet for heaven.

5. When from flesh the spirit freed,
Hastens homeward to return,
Mortals cry, “A man is dead!”
Angels sing, “A child is born!”

Charles Wesley, 1742.

537

7, 8, 7, 8, 7, 7

Gentle Shepherd, Thou hast stilled
Now Thy little lamb’s brief weeping;
Ah! how peaceful, pale, and mild,
In its narrow bed ’tis sleeping,
And no sigh of anguish sore
Heaves that little bosom more.

2. In this world of care and pain,
Lord, Thou wouldst no longer leave it;
To the sunny, heavenly plain
Dost Thou now with joy receive it;
Clothed in robes of spotless white,
Now it dwells with Thee in light.

3. Ah, Lord Jesus, grant that we
Where it lives may soon be living,
And the lovely pastures see
That its heavenly food are giving;
Then the gain of death we prove
Though Thou take what most we love.

J. W. Meinhold, 1835; C. Winkworth, tr., 1853.

538

L. M.

Now lay we calmly in the grave
This form, whereof no doubt we have
That it shall rise again that day
In glorious triumph o’er decay.

2. And so to earth again we trust
What came from dust and turns to dust
And from the dust shall surely rise
When the last trumpet fills the skies.

3. His soul forever lives in God,
Whose grace his pardon hath bestowed,
Who through His Son redeemed him here
From bondage unto sin and fear.

4. His trials and his griefs are past;
A blessed end is his at last;
He bore Christ’s yoke and did His will;
And though he died, he liveth still.

5. He lives where none do mourn and weep,
And calmly shall his body sleep.
’Tis God shall death Himself destroy
And raise it into glorious joy.

6. He suffered pain and grief below,
Christ heals him now from all his woe.
For him hath endless joy begun;
He shines in glory like the sun.

7. Then let us leave him to his rest
And homeward turn, for he is blest;
And we must well our souls prepare,
For death may seize us everywhere.

8. So help us, Christ, our Hope in loss;
Thou hast redeemed us by Thy cross
From endless death and misery;
We praise, we bless, we worship Thee.

M. Weiss, 1531; Stanza 8, Martin Luther; C. Winkworth, tr., a.

539

L. M.

Now hush your cries and shed no tear,
On such death none should look with fear;
He died a faithful Christian man,
And with his death true life began.

2. Coffin and grave we deck with care,
His body reverently bear;
It is not dead, but rests in God
And softly sleeps beneath the sod.

3. It seems as all were over now,—
The heavy limbs, the soulless brow,—
Yet through these rigid limbs once more
A noble life ere long shall pour.

4. These bones, now dead, again shall feel
New warmth and vigor through them steal,
And reunited they shall soar
On high to live forevermore.

5. This body, lying stiff and stark,
Shall soon rise upward from the dark
And swiftly mount up to the skies,
E’en as the spirit heavenward flies.

6. The buried grain of wheat must die,
Withered and worthless long must lie,
Yet springs to light all sweet and fair
And proper fruits shall rightly bear.

7. E’en so this body, made of dust,
To earth we once again entrust,
Where it shall slumber free from pain
Till from the dead it rise again.

8. God breathed into this house of clay
The spirit that hath passed away;
The righteous mind, the noble heart,
The living faith, did Christ impart.

9. Now earth has hid it from our eyes
Till God shall bid it wake and rise,
Who ne’er the creature will forget,
On whom His image He hath set.

10. Ah, would that promised day were here
When Christ will once again appear
And bring them to their heavenly home
Who have been buried in the tomb!

“Deus, ignee fons animarum.” Tr. from the German, C. Winkworth, 1856.

540

L. M.

Asleep in Jesus! Blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes.

2. Asleep in Jesus! Oh, how sweet
To be for such a slumber meet,
With holy confidence to sing
That death has lost his venomed sting.

3. Asleep in Jesus! Peaceful rest,
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour
That manifests the Savior’s power.

4. Asleep in Jesus! Oh, for me
May such a blissful refuge be!
Securely shall my ashes lie
And wait the summons from on high.

Margaret Mackay, 1832, abr.

541

S. M.

Jesus, I live to Thee,
The Loveliest and Best;
My life in Thee, Thy life in me,
In Thy blest love I rest.

2. Jesus, I die to Thee
Whenever death shall come;
To die in Thee is life to me
In my eternal home.

3. Whether to live or die,
I know not which is best;
To live in Thee is bliss to me,
To die is endless rest.

4. Living or dying, Lord;
I ask but to be Thine;
My life in Thee, Thy life in me,
Make heaven forever mine!

H. Harbaugh, 1850.

542

C. M.

Why do we mourn departing friends
Or shake at death’s alarms?
’Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to His arms.

2. Are we not tending upward, too,
As fast as time can move?
Nor would we wish the hours more slow
To keep us from our love.

3. Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay
And scattered all the gloom.

4. The graves of all the saints He blessed
And softened every bed;
Where should the dying members rest
But with their dying Head?

5. Thence He arose, ascending high,
And showed our feet the way.
Up to the Lord we, too, shall fly
At the great rising-day.

6. Then let the last loud trumpet sound
And bid our kindred rise;
Awake, ye nations under ground!
Ye saints, ascend the skies!

Isaac Watts, 1709.

543