2 And thus shall faith's consoling power The tears of love restrain; O, who that saw thy parting hour Could wish thee here again? 3 Gently the passing spirit fled, Sustained by grace divine; O, may such grace on us be shed, And make our end like thine! 408. 10s. M. Montgomery. Death in Manhood. 1 Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime, In full activity of zeal and power: A Christian cannot die before his time; The Lord's appointment is the servant's hour. 2 Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease; Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest work is done; Come from the heat of battle, and in peace, Soldier, go home; with thee the field is won. 3 Go to the grave, for there thy Saviour lay, In death's embraces, ere he rose on high; And all the ransomed, by that narrow way, Pass to eternal life beyond the sky. 4 Go to the grave,--no, to thy home above; Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord, Where thou for faith and hope hast perfect love, And open vision for the written word. 409. 12 & 11s. M. Heber. The Resurrection and the Life. 1 Thou art gone to the grave;--but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee, And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom. 2 Thou art gone to the grave: we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side; But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, since the Sinless hath died. 3 Thou art gone to the grave; and, its mansion forsaking, Perchance thy tried spirit in doubt lingered long; But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking, And the song that thou heard'st was the seraphim's song. 4 Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee, Since God was thy refuge, thy guardian, thy guide; He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee; And death has no sting, since the Saviour hath died. 410. C. M. Mrs. Hemans. Death of the Young. 1 Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit, rest thee now! E'en while with us thy footstep trod, His seal was on thy brow. 2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath! Soul, to its home on high! They that have seen thy look in death No more may fear to die. 3 Lone are the paths, and sad the hours, Since thy meek spirit's gone; But, O, a brighter home than ours, In heaven, is now thine own! 411. 8 & 7s. M. Briggs' Coll. Death of a Child.