Text: | At the funeral of a young person |
Author: | Steele |
1 When blooming youth is snatch'd away
By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.
2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
O may this truth, imprest
With awful power—I too must die,—
Sink deep in every breast.
3 Let this vain world engage no more;
Behold the gaping tomb!
It bids us seize the present hour,
To-morrow death may come.
4 The voice of this alarming scene
May ev'ry heart obey;
Nor be the heavenly warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray.
5 O let us fly, to Jesus fly,
Whose powerful arm can save
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.
6 Great God, thy sovereign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;
This only can prepare the heart
For death's surprising hour.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When blooming youth is snatch'd away |
Title: | At the funeral of a young person |
Author: | Steele |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1792 |
Topic: | Death; Funeral: Of a young person |