3 To the grave thy body bearing, Low we place it mid the dead; And lay the turf above it now, And seal its narrow bed; But thy spirit soars away, Free, among the faithful blest, Where the wicked cease from troubling And the weary are at rest. 404. C. M. Whittier. Not Lost, But Gone Before. 1 Another hand is beckoning us, Another call is given; And glows once more with angel steps The path that leads to heaven. 2 O, half we deemed she needed not The changing of her sphere, To give to heaven a shining one, Who walked an angel here. 3 Unto our Father's will alone One thought hath reconciled; That He whose love exceedeth ours Hath taken home his child. 4 Fold her, O Father, in thine arms, And let her henceforth be A messenger of love between Our human hearts and Thee. 5 Still let her mild rebukings stand Between us and the wrong, And her dear memory serve to make Our faith in goodness strong. 405. 7s. M. J. H. Bancroft. The Christian's Burial. 1 Brother, though from yonder sky Cometh neither voice nor cry, Yet we know for thee to-day Every pain hath passed away. 2 Not for thee shall tears be given, Child of God, and heir of heaven; For he gave thee sweet release; Thine the Christian's death of peace. 3 Well we know thy living faith Had the power to conquer death; As a living rose may bloom By the border of the tomb. 4 Brother, in that solemn trust, We commend thy dust to dust; In that faith we wait, till, risen, Thou shalt meet us all in heaven. 5 While we weep as Jesus wept, Thou shalt sleep as Jesus slept; Then with Jesus thou shalt rest, Crowned, and glorified, and blest. 406. 7s. M. Anonymous. Funeral Hymn. 1 Clay to clay, and dust to dust! Let them mingle,--for they must! Give to earth the earthly clod, For the spirit's fled to God. 2 Never more shall midnight's damp Darken round this mortal lamp; Never more shall noonday's glance Search this mortal countenance. 3 Look aloft! The spirit's risen; Death cannot the soul imprison: 'Tis in heaven that spirits dwell, Glorious, though invisible. 4 Thither let us turn our view; Peace is there, and comfort too; There shall those we love be found, Tracing life's eternal round. 407. C. M. Dale. "Weep Not." 1 Dear as thou wast, and justly dear, We would not weep for thee; One thought shall check the starting tear,-- It is--that thou art free.