The Angel of Death

Hither comes the angel drear
Who tells the dying death is near
Then ever gentle, ever kind
He helps the dying rest to find
He gives a balm so strong, so deep
That pain is gone, there’s naught but sleep

But we who watch the soul depart
Find grief and sadness in our heart
He does not look upon our grief
For grief, our love, needs no relief

His eyes are on the dying one
For there is where his work is done
And as a skillful surgeon, cuts,
Removes all sin and fear and such
Then sews the wound, and wakes the soul
To newness where all wounds are whole

He leads it on a path abroad
To seek the unseen face of God
A journey that is never done
Till all the final wars are won
When all the battles, all the strife
The lies, the hate, the stains of life
And any other painful thing
Is overcome, and cannot sting.

Then all the souls who’ve journeyed far
Behold above a brand new star
They see each other, clad with light
And watch the angels take to flight
Then in their flesh their voices raise,
To sing to God their grateful praise—
For all the pain and strife did cease
And nothing’s left but joy and peace.