Gem #19 - Death of the Righteous

What a great sorrow that the good should die! That the righteous should

fall! Death, why don't you cut down the poisonous tree? Why don't you mow

down the poisonous plant? Why do you touch the tree that has provided

shade for the weary people? Why do you touch the flower whose perfume has

made the earth joyous? Death, why do you snatch away the excellent of the

earth, in whom is all of our delight? If you would use your axe, use it

on the trees that draw nourishment, but afford no fruit; then we would

thank you. But why will you cut down the cedars, why will you fell the

godly trees of Lebanon? O Death, why don't you spare the church? Why must

the pulpit be hung in black; why must the missionary outpost be filled with

weeping? Why must the godly family lose its priest, and the house its

head? O Death, where are you? Don't touch the earth's holy things; your

hands are not fit to pollute the Israel of God. Why do you put your hand

on the hearts of the elect? Oh, stop, stop; spare the righteous, Death,

and take the bad! But no, it must not be; death comes and smiles at the

godliest of us all; the most generous, the most prayerful, the most holy,

the most devoted must die. Weep, weep, weep, O church, for you have lost

your martyrs; weep, O church, for you have lost your preachers, your holy

men are fallen.

Howl fir tree, for the cedar has fallen, the godly fail, and the righteous

are cut off. But stay awhile; I hear another voice. Say to the daughter

of Judah, spare your weeping. Say to the Lord's flock, Cease, cease your

sorrow; your martyrs are dead, but they are glorified; your ministers are

gone, but they have ascended up to your Father and to their Father; your

brethren are buried in the grave, but the archangel's trumpet shall awaken

them, and their spirits are ever now with God.