On the Death of Thomas Beard, Hymn 3

Happy state of widowhood!
State of us that mourn to God,
Who from all our comforts torn,
Only live to pray and mourn.

Meanest of the number I
For my old companion sigh,
Patiently my loss deplore,
Weep for one who weeps no more.

Me my consort hath outrun,
Out of sight he now is gone,
He his course hath finish'd here,
First come to the sepulchre.

Following on with earnest haste,
Till my mourning days are past,
I my partner's steps pursue,
I shall soon be happy too;

Find the ease for which I pant
Gain the only good I want,
Quietly lay down my head,
Sink into my earthen bed.

There my flesh shall rest in hope,
Till the quicken'd dust fly up,
Till to glorious life I rise,
Meet my husband in the skies.