Death Is in the World

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 5, 1864

Death Is in the World.

AH! DEATH is in this world of ours, With sable wings of gloom, Outspreading o'er the fairest bowers, He gathers for the tomb— He hides our loved ones in the tomb!

He loves a shining mark, 'tis said, Because we miss them most; Yet all must lie among the dead, And join that silent host, Must join to swell that countless host.

But oh! it seems a cruel thing That he shonld take the flowers, Just into beauty blossoming, Aud dim our brightest hours— Sweet buds, they brighten life's dark hours.

And oh! it is so sad to think That friends long cherished—true, Through his relentless power should sink And bid a last adieu— Kind friends, how sad that last adieu!

To see the mother stricken down, Even in her youthful years, And sorrowing forms come gathering round In anguish and in tears— Alas! how vain are sighs and tears!

And when they've laid her in the tomb, Her babes cling to each other, And passing through each lonely room, They call in vain for mother— Poor babes to have no more a mother.

In his cold arms our sires are borne To the charnal house of clay, The strongest tie by him is torn The noblest lain away— In death the loved are laid away.

He heedeth uot a sister's love, Nor brother's griefs and fears, Nor tearful eyes upraised above, But still his tomb he rears: The world is filled with tombs he rears.

And death is bnt a cruel foe, With sable wing unfurled; And if no hope beyond we know, How dark must be this world! 'Tis well that hope is in the world.

'Tis well we've heard there is a world, Where life from death is given, Where blighting wings are ever furled; That friends shall meet in heaven— 'Tis well we've heard of heaven.