he filled out the measure of a good old age.
And his prayer was answered, for his death was serene and dreadless. His
unseen Pilot guided him gently "across the bar"--and then _he saw Him_.

_THE TUNE._

Joseph Barnby's "Crossing the Bar" has supplied a noble choral to this
poem. It will go far to make it an accepted tone in church worship,
among the more lyrical strains of verse that sing hope and euthanasia.

"SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS."

If Tennyson had the mistaken feeling (as Dr. Benson intimates) "that
hymns were expected to be commonplace," it was owing both to his mental
breeding and his mental stature. Genius in a colossal frame cannot
otherwise than walk in strides. What is technically a hymn he never
wrote, but it is significant that as he neared the Shoreless Sea, and
looked into the Infinite, his sense of the Divine presence instilled
something of the hymn spirit into his last verses.

Between Alfred Tennyson singing trustfully of his Pilot and Fanny Crosby
singing "Safe in the Arms of Jesus," is only the width of the choir. The
organ tone and the flute-note breathe the same song. The stately poem
and the sweet one, the masculine and the feminine, both have wings, but
while the one is lifted in anthem and solemn chant in the great
sanctuaries, the other is echoing Isaiah's tender text[48] in prayer
meeting and Sunday-school and murmuring it at the humble firesides like
a mother's lullaby.

[Footnote 48: Isa. 40:11.]

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast,
There by His love o'ershaded
Sweetly my soul shall rest.
Hark! 'tis the voice of angels
Borne in a song to me
Over the fields of glory,
Over the jasper sea.

REFRAIN
Safe in the arms of Jesus (1st four lines rep.).

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world's temptations,
Sin cannot harm me there.
Free from the blight of sorrow,
Free from my doubts and fears,
Only a few more trials,
Only a few more tears.

Safe in the arms of Jesus.

Jesus, my heart's dear refuge
Jesus has died for me;
Firm on the Rock of Ages
Ever my trust shall be,
Here let me with patience,
Wait till the night is o'er,
Wait till I see the morning
Break on the Golden Shore.

Safe in the arms of Jesus.

--Composed 1868.

_THE TUN