ll2 BAXTER'S POEMS • . How oft have I undress'd me, , _ And laid my garments by, And died till the next day ! I do but go to rest me, · And shall rise speedily; My Lord will not delay. When thou hast broke this shell, My soul with Christ shall dwell, And with saints and angels bright . This world is but the womb From which my soul must come Into the eternal light. • And what though death be painful? The pain is quickly past ! My soul shall soon be freed: :My Lord shall make it gainful: The gain shall ever last ; And joy shall grief succeed. And though the place seem strange, And nature fear a change ; Yet I with Christ shall be. _And when with him I dwell, I know I shall be well, And his glorious light shall see. Thou shalt but kill my sin, And crown my painful race, And end my grief and fear : Thou shalt but let me in 'ro see the blessed face Of my Redeemer dear.