Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man
is peace. Ps. 37:37
How bless'd the righteous when he dies,
When sinks a weary soul to rest!
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves the expiring breast!
Life's labour done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say,
"How bless'd the righteous when he dies!"