By:
Edited By Heymen Wreford
Thoughts on Hearing a Funeral Bell Tolling
Gone! — gone! — gone!
And the bell toll’d solemnly slow;
Gone! — gone! — gone!
But is it to glory or woe?
Has the spirit found rest
On a Saviour’s breast,
Or gone with the damned below?
Gone! — gone! — gone
How that sound rings through the air!
Gone! — gone! — gone!
From it’s sheath of clay — but where?
Has it joined the song
Of the ransomed throng,
Or the wail of dark despair?
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
If saved by the blood, ‘tis well;
Gone! — gone! — gone!
The Redeemer’s praise to swell,
Who came from above,
In His wondrous love,
To save lost souls from hell.
Gone! — gone! — gone!
If Christless, how terrible!
Gone! — gone! ―gone!
‘Neath the wrath of God to dwell!
‘Neath the judgment dire
Of endless fire,
And woes no tongue can tell
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
Oh, sinner, had this been thee―
Gone! — gone! — gone!
Say, what would thy portion be?
To be singing the song
Of the blood-bought throng?
Or be wailing eternally?
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
Let the message speak home to thee―
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
From God’s wrath and judgment flee;
No longer delay,
Trust Jesus today,
And be saved for eternity.
T.M.