Belovèd, sleep,
Thy con­flicts now are past,
Life’s bat­tle fought, thy bliss be­gun,
And thou art crowned at last.

Rest, sweet­ly rest,
Thy tears are wiped away,
Thy sigh­ing hushed, thy song be­gun,
And thine eter­nal day.

Sweet, dream­less sleep,
The Mas­ter said, Well done!
Thy wea­ry head, up­on His breast,
Reclined at set of sun.

We wait in hope
Till Je­sus comes again;
We’ll meet thee then, to part to no more,
Beyond the reach of pain.

Belovèd, sleep.