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.