Hymns (1948), no. 9
Cease, Ye Fond Parents, Cease to Weep

1. Cease, ye fond parents, cease to weep. Let grief no more your bosoms swell; For what is death? ’Tis nature’s sleep; The trump of God will break its spell, For he, whose arm is strong to save, Arose in triumph o’er the grave.

2. Why should you sorrow? Death is sweet To those that die in Jesus’ love; Though called to part you soon will meet In holier, happier climes above; For all the faithful Christ will save, And crown with vict’ry o’er the grave.

3. There’s consolation in the blow, Although it crush a tender tie; For while it lays its victims low, Death opens to the worlds on high: Celestial glories proudly wave Above the confines of the grave.

4. Let heathen nations clothe the tread Of death in faithless, hopeless gloom, While vain imaginations spread Terrific forms around the tomb; For human science never gave A light to shine beyond the grave.

5. But where the light, the glorious light Of revelation freely flows, Let reason, faith and hope unite To hush our sorrows to repose. Through faith in him who died to save, We’ll shout hosannas o’er the grave.