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Updated: May 17, 2025
"The hour of my departure's come, I hear the voice that calls me home; At last, O Lord! let troubles cease, And let thy servant die in peace!" Mr. Blythe breathed, rather than sung the hymn, in the notes of Luther's hundredth psalm; and he did it with the accompaniment of tremulous and broken accents from all around the couch.
"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy." Thank God, when he said "the hour of my departure's come," he was able to add, "I hear the voice that calls me home" and "is the traveller sad," he asked, "when his face is turned homeward?" 'Who's that you've got next? Oh, I know him well. We rejoiced together. Come here, all of you, and look on his face.
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