XLVIII. DEATH UNAVOIDABLE.

8,7,8,7,4,7

To thy regions, World-eternal,

Onward, onward, is my face;

Resting spot in vain I wish for,

Till in thee I find my place:

Death's dark portal,

Though so dark I must pass through.

When death's cold and turbid waters,

To their bosom me receive,

Who will dissipate the darkness,

Who my terror will relieve?

If my Saviour

Smile, then fear will flee away.