Ah , tell me not in rueful strain,
That Death has sundered dearest ties;
The lost to Earth shall live again,
The withered flower resume its dyes;
But that sweet band which links my soul
To Him who is of Life the giver,
Renews its strength as ages roll,
And, blest be God, dissolveth never.

Parent and child may vanish hence,
Acquaintance into darkness go;
And o'er life's fair inheritance,
Its gloomiest pall may sorrow throw; —
But that sweet bond which links my soul
To Him who is of Grace the giver,
More closely knits as ages roll,
And, thanks to God, dissolveth never.

My Father lives — my guide — my stay,
Pillar and Cloud, in Him I see;
When all I cherish pass away,
Immortal Friend, He clings to me;
And that sweet bond which links to Him —
Of Life — and Grace — and Heaven the giver —
But firmer grows as ages roll,
And wraps me up " in Christ " forever.