Our Mother

The last night of watch­ing is ov­er;

The last words of love have been said;

And safe on the bo­som of Je­sus

Our mo­ther has pil­lowed her head.

Enfolded in arms ev­er­last­ing

Her weak­ness and pains are all past;

The pearl gates of God’s up­per ci­ty

In tri­umph she’s en­tered at last.

Safe in the bright up­per land

Safe thro’ ete­rn­ity’s years

Safe with the glo­ri­fied band

After earth’s tri­als and tears.

We mourn thro’ the bright days of sum­mer

’Mid scenes where no more she will tread;

And weep when the white snows of win­ter

Fall soft o’er the grave of our dead;

But when the home-group of our hearth-stone

Shall kneel at the calm hour of pray­er

The beau­ti­ful soul of our mo­ther

Shall meet with her dar­ling ones there.

We thank Thee

our Fa­ther

in Heav­en

That aft­er the earth-life of tears

There com­eth a day with­out end­ing

The morn of eter­ni­ty’s years;

We thank Thee that

per­fect thro’ suff’ring

Thy loved and Thy ran­somed shall stand

And sing the new song all to­ge­ther

With Thee in the bright up­per land.

Our eyes on the cross

dear Re­deem­er

Our feet in the safe nar­row way

We’ll think of the great weight of glo­ry

And car­ry the cross of to­day;

Thy strength in our weak­ness made per­fect

Bear us as on wings to the sky

Where hopes that we cher­ish ne’er fail us

And those that we love can­not die.