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Poem	The song of Simeon; or, Death made desirable. Luke 2:27ff Lord, at thy temple we appear, As happy Simeon came, And hope to meet our Savior here; O make our joys the same! With what divine and vast delight The good old man was filled, When fondly in his withered arms He clasped the holy child! "Now I can leave this world," he cried, "Behold, thy servant dies; I've seen thy great salvation, Lord, And close my peaceful eyes. "This is the light prepared to shine Upon the Gentile lands, Thine Isr'el's glory, and their hope To break their slavish bands." [Jesus! the vision of thy face Hath overpowering charms; Scarce shall I feel death's cold embrace, If Christ be in my arms. Then while ye hear my heart-strings break, How sweet my minutes roll! A mortal paleness on my cheek, And glory in my soul.]
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