from The Worcester Spy, 3 Oct 1862 (Volume 17 #236),

Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime,
In full activity of zeal and power;
A Christian cannot die before his time,
The Lord’s appointment is the servant’s hour

Go to the grave; thy faithful labors cease;
Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest task is done;
Come from the heat of battle, and in peace,
Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won.

Go to the grave; though like a fallen tree,
At once with verdure, flowers and fruitage crowned,
Thy form may perish, and thine honors be
Lost in the mouldering bosom of the ground;

Go to the grave, which, faithful to its trust,
The germ of immortality shall keep;
While safe, as watched by cherubim, thy dust
Shall, till the judgment day, in Jesus sleep.

Go to the grave, for there thy Savior lay
In death’s embraces, ere he rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way,
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.

Go to the grave; no, take the seat above;
Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord.
Where thou, for faith and hope hast perfect love,
And open vision for the written Word.