It came to pass, that [Lazarus] died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom.@Luke 16:22
portrait
Henry H. Milman (1791–1868)
© National Portrait Gallery

From the epic poem The Martyr of Antioch, by Henry H. Milman, 1822, alt.

Moyle, arranged from an ancient Irish dirge by Charles Beecher in the Plymouth Collection of Hymns and Tunes, edited by Henry W. Beecher (New York: A. S. Barnes, 1855) (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Charles Beecher (1815–1900)

Brother, thou art gone before us;
Where thy saintly soul is flown,
Tears are wiped away for ever,
And all sorrow is unknown;
From the burden of the body,
From all care and fear released,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

O’er the toilsome way thou’st traveled
And endured the heavy load;
Christ hath brought thy footsteps languid
Safely to His blest abode.
Thou art resting now, like Lazarus,
On thy heav’nly Father’s breast,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

Sin no more can taint thy spirit,
Nor can doubt thy faith assail;
Thou thy welcome has receivèd,
Now thy strength shall never fail;
And thou’rt sure to meet the holy,
Whom on earth thou loved’st best,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

To thy grave we sadly bear thee,
There in dust we place thy head;
O’er thee now the turf is pressing,
And grows green thy narrow bed.
But thy spirit soars to glory,
Free, among the faithful blest,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

When the Lord shall send His summons
Unto us who’re left behind,
May we, by the world untainted,
Gracious welcome with thee find;
Each like thee, in peace departing,
To the kingdom of the blest,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.