114 A PILGRIM'S SONG. Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that sweet day; 'Tis but a little while And He shall come again, Who died that we might live, who lives Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that glad day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away. QUIS SEPARABIT 'Tis thus they press the hand and part, Still one in life and one in death, Yet must they part, and parting, weep; What else has earth for them in store? These farewell pangs, how sharp and deep, These farewell words, how sad and sore! Yet shall they meet again in peace, And none their fellowship destroy. 116 QUIS SEPARABIT. Where none shall beckon them away, There, hand in hand, firm linked at last, Then let them press the hand and part, The undivided, unremoving. * "Ibi festivitas sine fine."-Augustine. FAR BETTER. O SAFE at home, where the dark tempter roams not, O safe in port, where the rough billow breaks not, Where the wild sea-moan saddens thee no more; Where the remorseless stroke of tempest shakes not ;When, when shall I too gain that tranquil shore? O bright, amid the brightness all eternal, When shall I breathe with thee the purer Air of a land whose clime is ever vernal, Away, above the scenes of guilt and folly, Let me make haste to join thy earlier bliss. air? 118 FAR BETTER. Another battle fought, and oh, not lost— Just gone within the veil, where I shall follow, Gone to begin a new and happier story, Thy bitterer tale of earth now told and done; These outer shadows for that inner glory Exchanged for ever.-O thrice blessed one! O freed from fetters of this lonesome prison, raise. |