She/He hath passed death’s chilling billow,
And gone to rest;
Jesus smoothed her/his dying pillow,
O slumber blest!
When the morn of glory, breaking,
Shall light the tomb,
Beautiful will be thy waking
In fadeless bloom;
Where no wintry winds are blowing,
No burial train,
Crown’d with life’s celestial flowing,
We’ll meet again.
By Annie R. Smith
© S. D. Goeldner, February, 2013. Last updated July, 2020.
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