Silver cord

Yes, she is gone—yet do not thou
The goodness of the Lord distrust;
But meekly to His wisdom bow,
Who lays thy loved one in the dust.
The form is there—but seek not there
The spirit born for light and love;
Look upward—free from sin and care,
It rests in joy with God above.

Through many checkered scenes of life
Ye hand in hand have journeyed on;
For her the labor and the strife
Are o’er—the peaceful goal is won.
The pleasant voice and cheering smile,
Which oft have soothed thy harassed mind,
Are gone but for a little while,
She hath not left thee far behind.

Then mourn not that an heir of grace,
Has reached the goal of hope and faith,
Press onward in the Christian race,
Brief is your parting now by death;
Soon thou too wilt be called to leave
This earth, where sadly thou dost roam;
Soon, joyfully wilt thou receive,
In Heav’n, her gentle "Welcome home."