Brother, Thou Art Gone Before Us

Brother

thou art gone be­fore us;

Where thy saint­ly soul is flown

Tears are wiped away for ev­er

And all sor­row is un­known;

From the bur­den of the bo­dy

From all care and fear re­leased

Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling

And the wea­ry are at rest.

O’er the toil­some way thou’st trav­eled

And en­dured the hea­vy load;

Christ hath brought thy foot­steps lan­guid

Safely to His blest ab­ode.

Thou art rest­ing now

like La­za­rus

On thy heav’n­ly Fa­ther’s breast

Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling

And the wea­ry are at rest.

Sin no more can taint thy spir­it

Nor can doubt thy faith as­sail;

Thou thy wel­come has re­ceiv­èd

Now thy strength shall nev­er fail;

And thou’rt sure to meet the ho­ly

Whom on earth thou loved’st best

Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling

And the wea­ry are at rest.

To thy grave we sad­ly bear thee

There in dust we place thy head;

O’er thee now the turf is press­ing

And grows green thy nar­row bed.

But thy spir­it soars to glo­ry

Free

among the faith­ful blest

Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling

And the wea­ry are at rest.

When the Lord shall send His sum­mons

Unto us who’re left be­hind

May we

by the world un­taint­ed

Gracious wel­come with thee find;

Each like thee

in peace de­part­ing

To the king­dom of the blest

Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling

And the wea­ry are at rest.