Hush! Blessèd Are the Dead

Hush! bless­èd are the dead

In Je­sus’ arms who rest

And lean their wea­ry head

Forever on His breast.

O bea­ti­fic sight!

No dark­ling veil be­tween

They see the Light of Light

Whom here they loved un­seen.

For them the wild is past

With all its toil and care;

Its wi­ther­ing mid­night blast

Its fie­ry noon­day glare.

Them the Good Shep­herd leads

Where storms are nev­er rife

In tran­quil dewy meads

Beside the Fount of Life.

Ours on­ly are the tears

Who weep around their tomb

The light of by­gone years

And sha­dow­ing years to come.

Their voice

their touch

their smile

Those love-springs flow­ing o’er;

Earth for its lit­tle while

Shall nev­er know them more.

O ten­der hearts and true

Our long last vi­gil kept

We weep and mourn for you;

Nor blame us: Je­sus wept.

But soon at break of day

His calm al­migh­ty voice

Stronger than death

shall say

Awake! Arise! Re­joice!