Some of his songs seem to be almost prophetic of his death. The last one which he sang in the Tabernacle just before starting for the East was one which will always be associated with his name: I know not the hour when my Lord will come To take me away to His own dear home, But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom, And that will be glory for me! I know not the song that the angels sing, I know not the sound of the harp’s glad ring, But I know there’ll be mention of Jesus our King, And that will be music for me. I know not the form of my mansion fair, I know not the name that I then shall bear, But I know that my Saviour will welcome me there, And that will be heaven for me. Another has been spoken of by a friend as also prophetic even of the manner of his death, although it was composed on the occasion of that other fire which consumed his home and the homes of thousands of others in the doomed city. It reads: Hark! the alarm, the clang of the bells! Signal of danger, it rises and swells! Flashes like lightning illumine the sky, See the red glare as the flames mount on high! _Chorus_--Roll on, roll on, O billows of fire! Dash with thy fiery waves higher and higher; Ours is a mission abiding and sure-- Ours is a kingdom eternal, secure. On like a fiend in its towering wrath, On, and destruction alone points the path; Mercy, O heaven! the sufferers wail; Feeble humanity naught can avail. The manner of Mr. Bliss’ death was remarkable. He had been with his wife to the home of his parents in Towanda, Pa., where his children were staying, but as he had an appointment at Chicago for the Sabbath, he hastened to return. Kissing the children a last farewell he left Rome, Pa., and took the Erie train at Waverly, for Chicago. His last stop was at Hornellsville, where the strange presentiments came upon him which were so near to persuading him to forsake the ill-fated train and take another route. Then came that ride over the Lake Shore and the awful plunge into the chasm at Ashtabula. His wife was with him. “United in life they were not divided in death.” It is said that but a short time before, the good man was seen reading his Bible, and at the hour of his death was quietly composing a hymn. The two died together as the fatal flames approached, giving their lives as a song which should reach the better land. Like martyrs they died singing their songs of faith, at least in their hearts, and together sharing the baptism of fire. Memorial services were held in the Tabernacle at Chicago, where he was expected on the following Sabbath, at which Mr. Moody, Mr. Sankey, Rev. Dr. Goodwin, and Rev. Dr. Thompson took part. The Tabernacle was appropriately draped and the exercises were very impressive.