O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
—1 Cor. 15: 55.
O Ye that look in graves new made,
With heavy heart and tearful gaze,
Look upward, and behold the rift,
Which ever wid'ning to thy view
Reveals the Heaven of Truth and Love,—
The Life, which maketh all things new.
Look not for Life, among the dead;
Nor think thy dear ones sleep;
In ever active thought they move,
From Love to Love, their Being's end,
From joy to joy, they go:
Why mourn them then as dead?
