Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime,
In full activity of zeal and power;
A Christian cannot die before his time,
The Lord’s appointment is the servant’s hour.
Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease;
Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest-task is done;
Come from the heart of battle, and in peace,
Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won.
Go to the grave; though like a fallen tree,
At once with verdure, flowers, and fruitage crowned;
Thy form may perish, and thine honors be
Lost in the moldering bosom of the ground.
Go to the grave, which, faithful to its trust,
The germ of immortality shall keep;
While safe, as watched by cherubim, thy dust
Shall to the judgment day in Jesus sleep.
Go to the grave, for there thy Savior lay
In death’s embraces, ere He rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way,
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.
Go to the grave—no, take thy seat above;
Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord,
Where thou, for faith and hope, hast perfect love,
And open vision for the written Word.