3 With the Rock of Ages trust, That which was enshrined in dust; Robed in ever-spotless white, In an atmosphere of light, By the never-failing springs Rests she now her weary wings. 588. C. M. H. Bacon. Death of a Child. 1 Thou gavest, and we yield to thee, God of the human heart! For bitter though grief's cup may be, Thou givest but our part. 2 O, thou canst bid our grief be stilled, Yet not rebuke our tears; How large a place his presence filled! How vacant it appears! 3 We mourn the sunshine of his smile, The tendrils of his love; Oh, was he loved too well the while Ere he was called above? 4 Our chastened spirits bow in prayer, And blend all prayers in one,-- Give us the hope to meet him there, When life's full task is done. 589. C. M. Mrs. Hemans. Death of the Young. 1 Calm on the bosom of thy God, Young spirit, rest thee now! E'en while with us thy footsteps trod His seal was on thy brow. 2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath! Soul, to its place on high! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die. 3 Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers, Whence thy meek smile is gone; But O, a brighter home than ours, In heaven is now thine own. 590. 8s. & 7s. M. S. F. Smith. Death of a Young Girl. 1 Sister, thou wast mild and lovely, Gentle as the summer breeze, Pleasant as the air of evening, When it floats among the trees. 2 Peaceful be thy silent slumber-- Peaceful in the grave so low: Thou no more wilt join our number; Thou no more our songs shalt know. 3 Dearest sister, thou hast left us; Here thy loss we deeply feel; But 'tis God that hath bereft us: He can all our sorrows heal. 4 Yet again we hope to meet thee, When the day of life is fled, Then in heaven with joy to greet thee, Where no farewell tear is shed. 591. 8s. & 7s. M. Bap. Memorial. Burial of a Christian Brother. 1 Brother, rest from sin and sorrow; Death is o'er and life is won; On thy slumber dawns no morrow: Rest; thine earthly race is run. 2 Brother, wake; the night is waning; Endless day is round thee poured; Enter thou the rest remaining For the people of the Lord. 3 Brother, wake; for he who loved thee,-- He who died that thou mightst live,-- He who graciously approved thee,-- Waits thy crown of joy to give. 4 Fare thee well; though woe is blending With the tones of earthly love, Triumph high and joy unending Wait thee in the realms above. 592. 10s. M. Montgomery. Death of a Christian in his prime.