A Short Requiem: VII. Hymn
Henry Walford Davies
No more to sigh, no more to weep
The faithful dead in Jesus sleep
Unfading let their memories bloom
While rest their bodies in the tomb
Nor will the Lord their love distrust
That strews its garlands o'er the dust
Though in the grave their clay is cold
They have not left the Christian fold
Still we are sharers of their joy
Companions of their blest employ
And Thee in them, O Lord most high
And them in Thee we magnify
An Angel sings that they are blest
Yea, saith the spirit, sweet their rest
In bowers of Paradise they meet
Secure beneath their Saviour's feet
Nor fear the trump that soon shall all
Before the throne of judgment call