Death of a Pastor

1 PASTOR, thou art from us taken In the glory of thy years, As the oak, by tempests shaken, Falls ere time its verdure sears.

2 Pale and cold we see thee lying In God's temple, once so dear. And the mourners' bitter sighing Falls unheeded on thine ear.

3 All thy love and zeal, to lead us      Where immortal fountains flow, And on living bread to feed us, In our fond remembrance glow.

4 May the conquering faith, that cheered thee When thy foot on Jordan pressed, Guide our spirits while we leave thee In the tomb that Jesus blessed.