When The Good Man Yields His Breath

Songs Of Praise The Angels Sang, Heav'n With Alleluias Rang, When Creation Was Begun, When God Spoke And It Was Done.

Prayer Is The Soul's Sincere Desire, Uttered Or Unexpressed, The Motion Of A Hidden Fire That Trembles In The Breast. Prayer Is The Burden Of A Sigh, The Falling Of A Tear, The Upward Glancing Of An Eye When None But God Is Near.

Gashed With Honourable Scars,low In Glory's Lap They Lie;though They Fell, They Fell Like Stars,streaming Splendour Through The Sky.

Joys Too Exquisite To Last, And Yet More Exquisite When Past.

When To The Cross I Turn My Eyes,and Rest On Calvary,o Lamb Of God, My Sacrifice,i Must Remember Thee.