The Dying Christian

By the streams of living water, Rest, my daughter. Soul, I would not stay thy flight; Jesus waiteth at the portal See, poor mortal, Open stand the doors of light. Let me go, life’s tempest braven, To the haven; There, beside the Saviour’s throne, Where the choir of seraph voices Now rejoices In eternal jubal‐tone. By thy earthly Virgin Mother Saviour, Brother, Thou hast known the gloom of death; Through its shadows now I wander, Angels yonder, Keep me even as Jesus saith! Now I see the distant glory Life’s poor story Ends, as it began, in pain. Earthly form, doth it grieve me Thus to leave thee? No, for Christians die to reign. What availeth life’s brief sorrow? Ere the morrow Christ will change to smiles my sighs; Dreaming, pass we through death’s portal Then, immortal, Waken up in Paradise. Soul‐Redeemer, by Thy power, In this hour, Keep faith’s light from burning dim; I am strong when Thou art near me Saviour, hear me! Guard me with Thy Cherubim. Thou the martyr’s crown hath borne, Shame and scorn, All to save my soul from sin; Thou the hosts of death assailest, Sinner frailest Through Thee rises conquering. Prince of Life! my soul’s endeavour, Now and ever, Be to sing Thy glorious love; Death is conquered! Thou hast given Peace from heaven Soon I’ll chant Thy praise above!