The North Aisle: The Lord's Prayer IX (In the Burial Service)

But lo, where by yon gleaming tower
The Sun sinks to his western bower,
As weeping mourners stand around,
Like Evening dews there falls a sound
On hearts by sorrow withered, —
The words of Him Who woke the dead.

" O Father of the fatherless, to Thee
We turn, sole Comforter, and seek release,
When shall Thy better Kingdom come — and we
Be gather'd 'neath Thy feet, and be at peace ?

Thou giv'st and tak'st away, Thy Name be blest !
Fain would we have that Cup to pass away,
But may Thy will be done ; our only rest
To know that Thou art good, and to obey.

Thy will be done on Earth, as 'tis in Heaven,
Give us enough each day to bear us on ;
'Tis not our home, and as we have forgiv'n,
Forgive us ere we die for Thy dear Son.

Look on us, for, like leaves, we haste away,
And are not ; to Thy mercy let us cling :
Till we have pass'd this world of evil sway,
Hide us beneath the shadow of Thy wing."