« PreviousContinue »
But, sufferer! is no comfort near
66 What if his hand were nigh to save From endless death thy days ?” The soul he ransom'd from the
grave Should live but to his praise !"
66 Rise then, oh rise! his health embrace,
With heavenly strength renew'd; And such as is thy Saviour's grace,
Such be thy gratitude !"
FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Lo! the lilies of thefield,
“ Say, with richer crimson glows
“ One there lives whose guardian eye
SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
WAKE not, oh mother ! sounds of lamentation !
Weep not, oh widow ! weep not hopelessly! Strong is his arm, the bringer of salvation,
Strong is the word of God to succour thee !
Bear forth the cold corpse, slowly, slowly bear
him: Hide his pale features with the sable pall: Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him:
Widow'd and childless, she has lost her all!
Why pause the mourners? Who forbids our
weeping? Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delay'd? - Set down the bier,he is not dead but sleeping!
Young man, arise!"--He spake, and was