Шарлотта Элиза Диксон (Charlotte Eliza Dixon)

“Absent from the Body, Present with the Lord”

WHEN I'm dead, and silent lying,
Should you in an hour of awe
Gaze upon me, softly sighing,
Back the solemn curtain draw;
But the frame of clay you'll see,
Oh, my friend! will not be me:
I shall be with CHRIST my treasure,
Drinking in eternal pleasure.
When within the coffin shrouded,
Mantled in a winding sheet,
All the springs of life beclouded
In that peaceable retreat:
Stay the tear, to weep forbear,
I, my friend! shall not be there;
I shall be where Sharon's Rose
Chief in beauty fragrant blows!
When you view my eye fast closed,
And regret its quenched beam,
Every fringy lash reposed,
Where oft flow'd the copious stream;
Let no tear-drop fall from thine,--
Dear one! they will not be mine;
Mine on JESUS will be dwelling
All the sons of light excelling.
When my feet, devoid of motion,
Side by side inactive lay,
Should you think with fond emotion
Never more with me they'll stray;
They will not be mine, beloved!
Mine, by love's impatience moved,
Will o'er heaven's bright pavement glide,
Till they reach EMMANUEL'S side.
Should your mournful eye-beam linger,
Should your palm the surface press
Of my icy marble finger,
Shrinking from its nothingness;
Dearest friend! 'twill not be mine,
Motionless in palm of thine!
Mine will then be sweetly playing;
O'er a harp angelic straying.
When you mark my head reposing,
Mindless, thoughtless, tearless, still;
Death's dark victory disclosing
O'er the memory, heart, and will;
As you trace care's furrow'd line
Cross the brow,--'twill not be mine;
Mine will lean on JESU'S breast,
Pillow'd in eternal rest.
When the humid grave's receiving
That cold casket, where to dwell,
Oft my spirit sadly grieving,
Found it but a prison-cell;
I, my friend, shall not be there,
Clear escap'd for ever--where
I shall be with CHRIST my lover,
Brother, bridegroom, lord, JEHOVAH.