598. 8s. & 7s. M. L. H. Sigourney. The Same.
1 Pastor, thou art from us taken
In the glory of thy years,
As the oak, by tempests shaken,
Falls ere time its verdure sears.
2 Pale and cold we see thee lying
In God's temple, once so dear,
And the mourner's bitter sighing
Falls unheeded on thine ear.
3 All thy love and zeal, to lead us
Where immortal fountains flow,
And on living bread to feed us,
In our fond remembrance glow.
4 May the conquering faith, that cheered thee
When thy foot on Jordan pressed,
Guide our spirits while we leave thee
In the tomb that Jesus blessed.