(From the pen of a dear boy who fell asleep in Jesus at the early age of fifteen. The following lines composed by himself were found in his pocket after his death.)
Oh, I have been at the brink of the grave,
And stood at the edge of its deep, dark wave,
And I’ve thought in the calm, still hours of night,
Of those regions where all is forever bright.
But I feared not the wave,
Nor the gloomy grave,
For I knew that the Lord was mighty to save.
And I have watched the solemn ebb and flow
Of life’s tide, which was fleeting, sure, though slow;
And I’ve stood on the shore of eternity,
And heard the deep roar of its rushing sea.
Yet I feared not the wave,
Nor the gloomy grave,
For I knew that the Lord was mighty to save.
I found that my only rest could be
In the death of Him who died for me;
For my peace was made by the precious blood
Which flowed from the side of the Son of God.
So I fear not the wave,
Nor the gloomy grave,
For I know that my Jesus is mighty to save.
ML-08/16/1964