God's time on earth allowed to man,
Thou'st seen the full allotted span;
As grain full ripe thou wert cut down,
Another jewel for the Master's crown.

While here you lived in honoured years,
An now are shed lamenting tears,
For you no more on earth we'll see,
Your face and form that used to be.

Oh! Pastor, dear, oh can't be!
That we your face no more will see,
Nor hear your welcome voice once more
Nor your well-known footsteps at the door.

Alas! On earth it cannot be,
Yet oft our thoughts will think of thee,
Of loving heart and flowing mind,
Thy ways were upright, just, and kind.

Upon a cold October day,
Our worthy pastor bent his way;
To Aberdeen he did repair,
To join the Synod sitting there.

How soon the Christian warfare cease,
His end is come, he died in peace
'Midst sorrowing friends to joys above,
To dwell in Jesus precious love.

No more we'll see thee in they place,
While listening to thy kind address,
Thy words were clothed with love and truth
While spoken both to age and youth.

For forty years, yea, more were seen,
To lead his flock midst pastures green,
And point them to the heavenly road,
Which he has now before us trod.

Then weep no more, his joy's complete,
Where now he walks the golden street,
And mingles with the glorious throng
That swell Mount Zion's sweetest song

Well done thou good and faithful wast,
Enter the heavenly joys at last
Thine earthly work is finished here
Oh! Enter now a crown to wear.