Classic Poem

'Tis enough: the hour is come;
Now within the silent tomb
Let this mortal frame decay,
Mingled with its kindred clay:
Since thy mercies, oft of old
By thy chosen Seers foretold,
Faithful now and stedfast prove,
God of Truth, and God of Love!
Since at length mine aged eye
Sees the day-spring from on high.
Sun of Righteousness, to Thee
Lo, the Nations bow the knee,
And the realms of distant Kings
Own the healing of thy wings.
Those whom Death had overspread
With his dark and dreary shade,
Lift their eyes, and from afar
Hail the light of Jacob 's Star;
Waiting till the promis'd ray
Turn their darkness into day;
While the beams, intensely shed,
Shine o'er Sion 's favour'd head.