Calmly sleeps the youthful soldier,
Life's rough march with him is o-er.
He has crossed the deep, dark river,
Crossed it to return no more.
He has fought the last great battle,
With that unrelenting foe,
From whose grasp there's no receding,
To whose bidding all must go.
That though in that fierce encounter,
No beloved friend might cheer the way,
No kind hand might smooth his pillow,
Check the burning fever's away.
He had trusted in the Savior,
When with health his pulse beat high,
And to those who truly love him,
He is ever, ever nigh.
Cheering by His precious promise,
Guiding by His gracious will,
"Fear not I am with you ever,
To the end I'm with you still!"
Where the sunbeams love to linger,
And the gorgeous flowers caress,
'Neath the fragrant grove of orange,
They have laid him down for rest.
Rest from every care and trouble,
That around our pathway lies,
Rest until the last great trumpet,
Shall bid every sleeper rise.