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!