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Only a tomb, no more!

A future resting- place, When God shall lay thee down, and bid All thy long wand'rings cease.

MACHPELAH.

This cave and field, no more,

Canst thou thy dwelling call;

That land of thine, plains, hills, woods, streams, The stranger has it all!

Thy altar and thy tent

Are all that thou hast here;

With these content, thou passest on, A homeless wanderer.

Thy life unrest and toil;

Thy course a pilgrimage;

Only in death thou goest down, To claim thy heritage;

A heritage which death

Shall seal to thee for aye, A resurrection- heritage

When all things pass away.

A home of endless peace,

Beyond these hills of strife; When these old rocks give up their dead, And death shall end in life.

A heritage of life,

Beyond this guarded gloom; A kingdom, not a field or cave; A city, not a tomb.