When The Good Man Yields His Breath

Gashed With Honourable Scars,low In Glory's Lap They Lie;though They Fell, They Fell Like Stars,streaming Splendour Through The Sky.

There Is A Calm For Those Who Weep, A Rest For Weary Pilgrims Found, They Softly Lie And Sweetly Sleep Low In The Ground.

Blue Thou Art, Intensely Blue; Flower, Whence Came Thy Dazzling Hue?

Songs Of Praise The Angels Sang, Heav'n With Alleluias Rang, When Creation Was Begun, When God Spoke And It Was Done.

The Tulip's Petals Shine In Dew, All Beautiful, But None Alike.