Wreaths for our Graves


   

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Words by L. F. Massey

Published 1898

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Wreaths for our graves the Lord hath given,
The tomb with crowns is hung,
And blest with music learnt in heav'n
Our song of praise is sung.

The gulf of death, now dark with fears,
Is bridged by hope and love;
The mem'ries we have sown in tears
Bloom fair in light above.

Oh, who are these who join with us,
Who set the note of praise;
Whose gleaming vestures touch us thus,
Whose hearts our hearts upraise?

These dwelt with us awhile below,
The loved, the gone before,
And these the garments white as snow,
They wear on yonder shore, on yonder shore.

They fought as we are fighting now;
And still in blood and flame,
To Christ the Lord they held their vow,
By Christ they overcame.

And still with us they have their part;
How should we faint or fail,
We know what fellowship of heart
Is ours beyond the veil?

Ours the communion of all saints,
The Church's faithful dead,
To cheer us when our spirit faints,
And hope and strength are fled.

But little have we sight to see,
But faint the tones we hear;
Yet drawn by light and melody
We press one step more near, one step more near,
Yet drawn by light and melody,
By light and melody, by light and melody,
We press one step,
We press one step more near.

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