Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/113



soul hath burst its prison bars, And left its home of clay, And journeys on, amid the stars, To its glad home away; Bright angels come in glorious throngs, To speed it on its track, Cheering the way with joyous songs; Oh! who would wish it back?

Forgotten now the grief and woes It may have suffered here; On to its resting-place it goes, Nor harbours doubt or fear; Firm in the faith of God's dear Son, (All competent to save) The soul its blest reward hath gain'd; The body's in the grave.

actions should be such only as our enemies would never allude to!