Go to thy rest, O man of God! on high,
With those who bore the burden and the heat
Of bygone days, when Truth, that could not die,
Burned on your lips and guided all your feet.

We mourn thine absence from familiar ways;
But high and pure the paths which thou hast trod:
We hope to follow till we meet and praise
With thee and thine before the throne of God.

Long will thy name be cherished 'mid the ranks
Of those who teach our God's undying love;
While evermore we bow with reverent thanks,
And ask for grace to follow thee above.

Go to thy place amid the radiant host:
We mourn thy loss from earth with tears to-day;
Yet they who knew thee best and loved thee most
Say not, “Return,” but “Speed thee on thy way!”

Rise to thy place beside the valiant few
Who boundless grace proclaimed in days gone by:
The crown is thine; the victor's palm thy due;
And thine the welcome where no more we die.