The Voices Of The Death Chamber.

The night lamp is faintly gleaming
    Within my chamber still,
And the heavy shades of midnight
    Each gloomy angle fill,
And my worn and weary watchers
    Scarce dare to move or weep,
For they think that I am buried
    In deep and quiet sleep.

But, hush! what are those voices
    Heard on the midnight air,
Of strange celestial sweetness,
    Breathing of love and prayer?
Nearer they grow and clearer,
    I hear now what they say -
To the Kingdom of God's glory,
    They're calling me away!

See my gentle mother softly
    To me approaches now,
What is the change she readeth
    Upon my pale damp brow?
She clasps her hands in anguish
    Whose depth no words might say?
Has she, too, heard the voices
    That are calling me away?

The father fond of my children,
    First sole love of my youth,
The loving, the gentle hearted,
    And full of manly truth,
Is kneeling now beside me,
    Beseeching me to stay -
Oh! 'tis agony to tell him
    They're calling me away.

If earthly love could conquer
    The mighty power of Death,
His love would stay the current
    Of failing strength and breath!
That voice whose tender fondness
    So long has been my stay
Should tempt me from the voices
    That are calling me away.

Ah! they bring my children to me,
    That loved and lovely band,
And with wistful awe-struck faces,
    Around my couch they stand,
And I strain each gentle darling
    To me with wailing cry,
As I for the first time murmur:
    "My God! 'tis hard to die!"

But, O hark! Those strains of Heaven,
    Sound louder in mine ear,
Whisp'ring: "Thy God, Thy Father,
    Will guard those children dear."
Louder they grow, now drowning
    All sounds of mortal birth,
And in wild triumphant sweetness
    Bear me aloft from earth!