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Kindly loaned by Jon-Paul Carr, 2007

William Cumberland Knight

When the day of toil is done,
When the race of life is run,
Father, grant Thy wearied one
Rest for evermore.

When the darkness melts away
At the breaking of the day,
Bid us hail the cheering ray ;—
Light for evermore.

When for vanished days we yearn,
Days that never can return,
Teach us in Thy love to learn
Love for evermore.

The poem below was written in 1877 and printed for the funeral of William in 1915. It was distributed to the congregation at his funeral.

The verse (left) inside the memorium card


Life is like a bubble
On the stream of time.
With it cometh trouble,
With it joys sublime.

Life is like a vessel
On the stormy wave,
With it we do wrestle,
For it we do crave.

Life is like a dewdrop
On some tiny flower,
When the sun ariseth
"Tis gone in one short hour.

Life is like a sunbeam
Sporting in the light:
When the sun is waning
Cometh on the night.

Life is ever flying,
Time is on the wing,
Round us some are crying,
Comfort to us bring.

Hark, the solemn bell!
How sacred is the toll,
Speaking the departure
Of an immortal soul.

Life, thou art so frail!
Death, thou art so sure!
Hark, the bitter wail
For man is now no more.


Hymn (1122 Psalms & Hymns)

Beloved, let us love !

Love is of God ;
In God alone hath love
Its true abode.
Beloved, let us love!

For they who love—
They only are His sons,
Born from above.
Beloved, let us love!

For love is rest;
And he who loveth not
Abides unblest.
Beloved, let us love !

In love is light;
And he who loveth not
Dwelleth in night.
Beloved, let us love !

For only thus
Shall we be with that God
Who loveth us.


A word of Sympathy

Hymn 192 (Psalms & Hymns)  

When Thou, my righteous Judge, shaltcome
To fetch Thy ransomed people Home,
Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at Thy right hand?

I love to meet among them now,
efore Thy gracious feet to bow,
Though vilest of them all:
But, can I bear the piercing thought—
What if my name should be left out,
When Thou for them shalt call ?

Prevent, prevent it by Thy grace;
Be Thou, dear Lord, my hiding-place,
In this, the accepted day;
Thy pardoning voice, O let me hear,
To still my unbelieving fear,
Nor let me fall, I pray.

Let me among Thy saints be found,
Whene'er the archangel's trump shall sound,
To see Thy smiling face;
Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing,
While heaven's resounding mansions ring
With shouts of sovereign grace.




father - Mr J C Knight's obituary

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