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"Lines inscribed to the memory of Bp. Chase"




Bassett, poem, poetry, song, music, lines, verse, death of Philander Chase


Lines inscribed to the memory of Bishop Chase

Bury me not with pageant and pride

The rich and the great and the gay beside

But let me below ‘neath my chosen shade

With graves of the lowly around me made

For all unbefitting

The graves deep repose

Are the pomp & the pride

Which the world bestows

Lay me to rest in my chosen spot

Where the surging waves of strife reach not

Where gentle hands a flower may plant

And birds of the bowes my requiem chant

Neath that deep sylvan shade

Gently lay me to rest

With the green arch above

And the turf on my breast

Lay me to rest for beneath the sun

My course so finished, my race is run

No earthward throbbings my heart now distress

And no gloomy doubts thy spirit oppress

But calm as the slumbers

If innocence blest

Do I sweetly recline

On the Saviour’s breast.

Calmly I sink to the peaceful tomb

It wears for me no shadow of gloom

But round it there gathers a halo bright

And shining ones to its precincts invite

They wait for my spirit

They come to me now

Soft breezes unearthly

Are fanning my brow

Servant of God what honors are thine

Lowly and meek like thy Master divine

No lofty dome need be reared to thy name

Thy labors of love speak thy unsought fame

Rest, Rest from thy labors

Receive thy reward

The rest that remains to

The people of God


November 11th 1853



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