Feeling that the silver chord of life is loosing, and that his spirit is ready to quit her old companion the body, he extends himself on his bed - closes his eyes for the last time, with his own hands - folds his arms decently on his breast, then breathing out "Father of mercies! take me to thyself," - he fell asleep. Swift on angels' wings the brightening saint ascended; while voices more than human were heard (in Fancy's ear) warbling through the happy regions, and hymning the great procession towards the gates of heaven. His glorious coming was seen far off, and myriads of mighty angels hastened forth, with golden harps, to welcome the honored stranger. (Mason Weems)

Feeling that the silver chord of life is loosing, and that his spirit is ready to quit her old companion the body, he extends himself on his bed - closes his eyes for the last time, with his own hands - folds his arms decently on his breast, then breathing out "Father of mercies! take me to thyself," - he fell asleep. Swift on angels' wings the brightening saint ascended; while voices more than human were heard (in Fancy's ear) warbling through the happy regions, and hymning the great procession towards the gates of heaven. His glorious coming was seen far off, and myriads of mighty angels hastened forth, with golden harps, to welcome the honored stranger.

Mason Weems

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arms bed body breast breathing brightening chord coming companion ear fell far father feeling forth glorious golden great happy heaven human hymning last life mighty off procession quit ready saint seen silver spirit stranger swift take time warbling welcome while wings hands gates regions eyes

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