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'DEATH |
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2 Nearer my Father's house,
Where many mansions be; Nearer my Saviour's glorious throne; Nearer the crystal sea;
3 Nearer the bound of life,
Where burdens are laid down; Nearer to leave the heavy cross; Nearer to gain the crown.
4 But, lying dark between,
Winding down through the night, |
There rolls the deep and unknown stream That leads at last to light.
5 E'en now, perchance, my feet
Are slipping on the brink, And I, to-day, am nearer home,— Nearer than now I think.
6 Father, perfect my trust!
Strengthen my power of faith! Nor let me stand, at last, alone Upon the shore of death.
Phoebe Carv, 1852 |
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2 It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears, And wake, in glorious repose To spend eternal years. |
3 It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free From dungeon chain, to breathe the air Of boundless liberty. |
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