If death my friend and me di­vide,
Thou dost not, Lord, my sor­row chide,
Or frown my tears to see;
Restrained from pas­sion­ate ex­cess,
Thou bidst me mourn in calm dis­tress
For them that rest in Thee.

I feel a strong im­mor­tal hope,
Which bears my mourn­ful spir­it up
Beneath its mount­ain-load:
Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
Within the arms of God.

Pass a few fleet­ing mo­ments more
And death the bless­ing shall re­store
Which death has snatched away;
For me Thou wilt the sum­mons send,
And give me back my part­ed friend
In that eter­nal day.