Rest, for the little sleeper!
Joy for the ransom’d soul!
Peace for the lonely weeper,
Dark though the waters roll!
Weep for the little sleeper;
Weep, it will ease thy heart,
Though the dull pain be deeper
Than with the world to part.
Mighty the conflict o’er her!
How could she face the foe?
Bugged the road before her!
How could the weak one go?
She could not climb the mountain;
She could not face the foe
Lying between Life’s Fountain,
And this dark vale below.
But the kind Shepherd found her,
Laid her upon His breast,
Folded His arms around her,
Hushed her to endless rest.
He bore her up the mountain,
He trampled down the foe,
He laid her by Life’s Fountain,
Whence the still waters How.
Joy for the little sleeper,
The gentle, timid lamb,
Safe with her tender keeper!
Could there be sweeter balm?
As the dread hour came nearer,
Closer the tendril clung,
Growing each moment dearer,
Though the heart’s core was wrung.
Oh! what are earth’s best pleasures,
Sick’ning the woe-struck heart?
What all its joys and treasures,
When with the lov’d we part?
But the long-wish’d-for token,
Earnest of peaceful rest,
Binds up the heart that’s broken,
Soothes the distracted breast.
Do not, then, droop in sadness,
Dark though the night may be;
There’s a bright morn of gladness,
Mourner, reserved for thee!
Yet shall the lov’d one greet thee,
Smiling in Heav’n’s own light,
Joying once more to meet thee
Where there can be no blight.
Grieve not with hopeless sorrow,
Jesus has felt thy pain;
Thy child He did but borrow,
He’ll bring her back again.
Peace, little loving sleeper,
Close to thy Saviors side,
Housed with thy tender Keeper,
Safe—for “the Lord has died!”