Millennial Harp



Why do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death’s alarms?
‘Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to his arms.
MILHA 44.1

Are we not lending upward too,
As fast as time can move?
Nor should we wish the hours more slow,
To keep us from our love.
MILHA 44.2

Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And left a long perfume.
MILHA 44.3

The graves of all his saints be blest,
And soften’d every bed;
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head.
MILHA 44.4

Thence he arose, ascending high,
And show’d our feet the way:
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising day.
MILHA 44.5

Then tot the last trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise;
Awake, ye nations under ground;
Ye saints, ascend the skies.
MILHA 44.6

See “Millennial Musings”—page 105, hymn 89—pages 120, hymn 107.