The Last Kiss

Take the last kiss, the last forever

Translator: J. M. Neale (1862); Author: St. John of Damascus (780)
Published in 2 hymnals

Representative Text

Take the last kiss,—the last for ever!
Yet render thanks amidst your gloom:
He, severed from his home and kindred,
Is passing onwards to the tomb:
For earthly labours, earthly pleasures,
And carnal joys, he cares no more:
Where are his kinsfolk and acquaintance?
They stand upon another shore.
Let us say, around him pressed,
Grant him, LORD, eternal rest!

The hour of woe and separation,
The hour of falling tears is this:
Him that so lately was among us
For the last time of all we kiss:
Up to the grave to be surrendered,
Sealed with the monumental stone,
A dweller in the house of darkness,
Amidst the dead to lie alone.
Let us say, around him pressed,
Grant him LORD, eternal rest!

110

Life, and life’s evil conversation,
And all its dreams, are passed away:
The soul hath left her tabernacle:
Black and unsightly grows the clay.
The golden vessel here lies broken:
The tongue no voice of answer knows;
Hushed is sensation, stilled is motion;
Toward the tomb the dead man goes.
Let us cry with heart’s endeavour,
Grant him rest that is for ever!

111

What is our life? A fading flower;
A vapour, passing soon away;
The dewdrops of the early morning:—
Come gaze upon the tombs today.
Where now is youth? Where now is beauty,
And grace of form, and sparkling eye?
All, like the summer grass, are withered;
All are abolished utterly!
While our eyes with grief grow dim,
Let us weep to CHRIST for him!

Woe for that bitter, bitter moment,
The fearful start, the parting groan,
The wrench of anguish, from the body
When the poor soul goes forth alone!
Hell and destruction are before her;
Earth in its truest worth she sees;
A flickering shade; a dream of error;
A vanity of vanities.
Sin in this world let us flee,
That in heaven our place may be.

112

Draw nigh, ye sons of Adam; viewing
A likeness of yourselves in clay:
Its beauty gone; its grace disfigured;
Dissolving in the tomb’s decay;
The prey of worms and of corruption,
In silent darkness mouldering on;
Earth gathers round the coffin, hiding
The brother, now for ever gone.
Yet we cry, around him pressed,
Grant him, LORD, eternal rest!

When, hurried forth by fearful angels,
The soul forsakes her earthly frame,
Then friends and kindred she forgetteth,
And this world’s cares have no more claim;
Then passed are vanity and labour;
She hears the Judge’s voice alone;
She sees the ineffable tribunal:
Where we, too, cry with suppliant moan,
For the sins that soul hath done,
Grant Thy pardon, Holy One!

113

Now all the organs of the body,
So full of energy before,
Have lost perception, know not motion,
Can suffer and can act no more.
The eyes are dosed in death’s dark shadow;
The ear can never hear again;
The feet are bound; the hands lie idle;
The tongue is fast as with a chain.
Great and mighty though he be,
Every man is vanity.

Behold and weep me, friends and brethren!
Voice, sense, and breath, and motion gone;
But yesterday I dwelt among you;
Then death’s most fearful hour came on.
Embrace me with the last embracement;
Kiss me with this, the latest kiss;
Never again shall I be with you;
Never with you share woe or bliss.

114

I go toward the dread tribunal
Where no man’s person is preferred;
Where lord and slave, where chief and soldier,
Where rich and poor alike are heard:
One is the manner of their judgment:
Their plea and their condition one:
And they shall reap in woe or glory
The earthly deeds that they have done.
I pray you, brethren, I adjure you,
Pour forth to CHRIST the ceaseless prayer,
He would not doom me to Gehenna,
But in His glory give me share!

Hymns of the Eastern Church, 1866

Translator: J. M. Neale

John M. Neale's life is a study in contrasts: born into an evangelical home, he had sympathies toward Rome; in perpetual ill health, he was incredibly productive; of scholarly tem­perament, he devoted much time to improving social conditions in his area; often ignored or despised by his contemporaries, he is lauded today for his contributions to the church and hymnody. Neale's gifts came to expression early–he won the Seatonian prize for religious poetry eleven times while a student at Trinity College, Cambridge, England. He was ordained in the Church of England in 1842, but ill health and his strong support of the Oxford Movement kept him from ordinary parish ministry. So Neale spent the years between 1846 and 1866 as a warden of Sackvi… Go to person page >

Author: St. John of Damascus

Eighth-century Greek poet John of Damascus (b. Damascus, c. 675; d. St. Sabas, near Jerusalem, c. 754) is especially known for his writing of six canons for the major festivals of the church year. John's father, a Christian, was an important official at the court of the Muslim caliph in Damascus. After his father's death, John assumed that position and lived in wealth and honor. At about the age of forty, however, he became dissatisfied with his life, gave away his possessions, freed his slaves, and entered the monastery of St. Sabas in the desert near Jerusalem. One of the last of the Greek fathers, John became a great theologian in the Eastern church. He defended the church's use of icons, codified the practices of Byzantine chant, and wr… Go to person page >

Text Information

First Line: Take the last kiss, the last forever
Title: The Last Kiss
Author: St. John of Damascus (780)
Translator: J. M. Neale (1862)
Meter: 9.8.9.8.9.8.9.8.7.7
Language: English
Copyright: Public Domain

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Hymns and Poetry of the Eastern Church #125

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Hymns of the Eastern Church (5th ed.) #109

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