They marked the footsteps that He trod,
His zeal inspired their breast;
And, following their Incarnate God,
Possess the promised rest.

Our glorious Leader claims our praise
For His own pattern given,
While the long cloud of witnesses
Shows the same path to heaven.

144 HEAR WHAT THE VOICE OF
HEAVEN PROCLAIMS.

THIS hymn, also by Watts, is much used at burials.

HEA

EAR what the voice from heaven proclaims
For all the pious
dead:

Sweet is the savour of their names,

And soft their sleeping bed.

They die in Jesus and are blest;

How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins released
And freed from every snare.

Far from this world of toil and strife,
They 're present with the Lord;
The labours of their mortal life

End in a large reward.

TUNE-"Beatitudo."

145-HOW BLEST THE RIGHTEOUS WHEN

HE DIES.

THIS hymn by Mrs. Barbauld is quoted by Thomas Carlyle when describing the death of Oliver Cromwell.

HOW blest the righteous when he dies!

When sinks a weary soul to rest,

How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves the expiring breast!

So fades a summer cloud away:
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er:
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys:
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,
Where lights and shades alternate dwell!
How bright the unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!

Life's labour done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say,
How blest the righteous when he dies!

TUNE "CUYLER."

Mrs. Barbauld is perhaps even better known by her lines on Life, written when she was over seventy:

"Life! we've been long together,

Through pleasant and through cloudy weather. 'Tis hard to part when friends are dearPerhaps 't will cost a sigh, a tear;

Then steal away; give little warning, Choose thine own time;

Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime, Bid me Good-morning!"

146 — SLEEP ON, BELOVED.

THIS funeral hymn, which has attained even greater vogue in America than in this country, is by Miss Sarah Doudney. It was the hymn sung at Mr. Spurgeon's funeral.

LEEP on, beloved, sleep, and take thy rest;

We love thee well; but Jesus loves thee best
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night!

Calm is thy slumber as an infant's sleep;
But thou shalt wake no more to toil and weep:
Thine is a perfect rest, secure and deep

-

Good-night!

Until the shadows from this earth are cast;
Until He gathers in His sheaves at last;
Until the twilight gloom is overpast-

Good-night!

Until the Easter glory lights the skies;
Until the dead in Jesus shall arise,

And He shall come, but not in lowly guise-
Good-night!

Until made beautiful by Love Divine,

Thou, in the likeness of Thy Lord shalt shine, And He shall bring that golden crown of thine Good-night!

Only "good-night,” beloved not "farewell!"
A little while, and all His saints shall dwell
In hallowed union, indivisible

Good-night!

Until we meet again before His throne,
Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own,
Until we know even as we are known

Good-night!

TUNE- MR. SANKEY'S.

147-NOW THE LABOURER'S TASK IS

O'ER.

THIS hymn is one of the favourites of Her Majesty the Queen, and is frequently selected by her to be sung at the funerals of members of her family. It was written by the Rev. J. Ellerton, and first published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, in " Church Hymns," 1871.

Now the battle day is past;
Now upon the farther shore
Lands the voyager at last.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

OW the labourer's task is o'er,

There the tears of earth are dried;
There its hidden things are clear;
There the work of life is tried
By a juster Judge than here.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

There the sinful souls, that turn
To the Cross their dying eyes,
All the love of CHRIST shall learn
At His Feet in Paradise.

FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

There no more the powers of hell
Can prevail to mar their peace;
CHRIST the LORD shall guard them well,
He who died for their release.
FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.
“Earth to earth, and dust to dust,"
Calmly now the words we say,
Left behind we wait in trust

For the Resurrection-day.

FATHER, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

AMEN.

148-I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP.

FOUND UNDER THE PILLOW OF A SOLDIER, WHO DIED IN A HOSPITAL IN SOUTH CAROLINA DURING THE AMERICAN WAR.

I LAY me down to sleep,

With little thought or care,
Whether my waking find

Me here or there.

A bowing, burdened head,
That only asks to rest
Unquestioning upon
A loving breast.

My good right hand forgets.
Its cunning now,

To march the weary march
I know not how.

I am not eager, bold,

Nor strong- all that is past: