Ah, rather now receive

The purchase of Thy Blood,
Than let us live to tempt or grieve
The patience of our God.

In self-mistrusting fear
Thy mercy we implore,

To keep us till our conflicts here
Triumphantly are o'er.

Ah, make us better, Lord,

And take us at the best,

Meet to receive our full reward
In Love's eternal feast.

Larger Funeral Hymns, 1759

ANOTHER.

WHY should my tears forever flow?
Why should I wail the close of woe,
The end of misery?

His real life doth still remain
Nothing is dead but grief and pain,
But that which wished to die.

My HUTCHINSON himself survives ;
He lives, to GOD he greatly lives!
The imperishable part

Is rapt beyond our world of care;
Yet now by faithful love I bear
His image on my heart.

I see the generous friend sincere !
His voice still vibrates in my ear,

The voice of truth and love:

It calls me to put off my clay,
It bids me soar with him away
To fairer worlds above.

Not even in death his friendship dies:
With grateful pity and surprise
I ask, how can it be?

Loosened from all he leaves behind,

Yet still, unutterably kind,

Yet still he cleaves to me.

On me he rests his dying head,
And catching grasps a broken reed,
But will not let me part,

Till Jesus visits him again,

By nobler love dissolves the chain,
And vindicates his heart.

Soon as the heavenly Guest arrives, No more he fondly pants and strives To intwist his soul with mine; He shakes me off, and then his clay; He gives me up, and dies away

Into the arms divine.

Departed hence in perfect peace,
He loves me now without excess
Or passionate alloy;

Serene, he waits my spirit's flight
To range with his the plains of light
And climb the mount of joy.

Reposed in those Elysian seats
Where Jonathan his David meets,

Our souls shall soon embrace,
The utmost power of friendship prove,
Commenced on earth, matured above,
In ecstasies of praise.

How shall we sing and triumph there,
Our dangers and escapes compare,
Our days of flesh and woe!

How comprehend the plan divine,
And sweetly in His praises join

Through whom we met below.

Through whom in paradise we meet,
Great Author of our joy complete,
Thee, Jesus, we proclaim,

While all the saints stand listening round,
And all the realms of bliss resound
Salvation to the Lamb.

The Lamb hath brought us through the fire; The Lamb shall raise our raptures higher, When all from earth are driven;

Our glorious Head shall cleave the skies
And bid His Church triumphant rise
From paradise to heaven.

Larger Funeral Hymns, 1759.

1 THESSALONIANS IV. 13.

Sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.

IF death my friend and me divide,
Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
Or frown my tears to see;

Restrained from passionate excess,
Thou bid'st me mourn in calm distress
For them that rest in Thee.

I feel a strong immortal hope,
Which bears my mournful spirit up
Beneath its mountain load;
Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
Within the arms of God.

Pass a few fleeting moments more,
And death the blessing shall restore

Which death hath snatched away;

For me Thou wilt the summons send,
And give me back my parted friend
In that eternal Day.

Scripture Hymns, 1762.

EPITAPH.

THREE innocents lie buried here,
Who in their dawn of day
Rejoiced before the Lord to appear,
And 'scaped at once away.

At once their pardon they received
With Jesu's Blood applied;
His witnesses awhile they lived,
His witnesses they died.

Quickened at once they soon shall rise,
Their Saviour's joy to share;
Reader, expect Him from the skies,
And thou shalt meet Him there.

1749.