She hath passed death's chilling billow
1
She hath passed death's chilling billow,And gone to rest;Jesus smoothed her dying pillow,—O slumber blest!
2
From the bitter cup that's given,We should not shrink;Since the mandate is from heaven,That bids us drink.
3
Sleep, dear sister, kind and tender,To friendship true,While with feeling hearts we renderThis tribute due.
4
When the morn of glory, breaking,Shall light the tomb,Beautiful will be thy wakingIn fadeless bloom;
5
Where no wintry winds are blowing,—No burial train;Crowned with gems celestial, glowing,We'll meet again.