4 The graves of all his saints he blest,
And soften'd every bed:
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head!
5 Thence he arose, ascending high,
And show'd our feet the way:
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising day.
6 Then let the last, loud trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise:-
Awake, ye nations under ground;
Ye saints, ascend the skies.
Awaking from the dust with shouts of praise.
THROUGH sorrow's night, and danger's path,
Amid the deep'ning gloom,
We, foll'wers of our suff'ring Lord,
Are marching to the tomb.
2 There, when the turmoil is no more,
And all our powers decay,
Our cold remains in solitude
Shall sleep the years away.
8 Our labours done, securely laid
In this our last retreat,
Unheeded, o'er our silent dust,
The storms of earth may beat.
4 Yet not thus buried, or extinct,
The vital spark shall lie;
For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise
To seek its kindred sky.
These ashes, too, this little dust,
Our Father's care shall keep,
Till the last angel rise and break
The long and dreary sleep.
Sown a natural body, raised a spiritual body.
ND must this body die
A This well-wrought frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mould'ring in the clay?
2 Corruption, earth, and worms,
Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes
To put it on afresh.
3 God my Redeemer lives,
And ever from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,
Till he shall bid it rise.
4 Array'd in glorious grace
Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape, and every face,
Be heavenly and divine.
5 These lively hopes we owe,
Lord, to thy dying love:
O may we bless thy grace below,
And sing thy grace above!
6 Saviour, accept the praise
Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.
Sown in weakness, raised in glory.
Tand gay their silken leaves unfold,
HE morning flowers display their sweet
As careless of the noontide heats,
As fearless of the evening cold.
2 Nipp'd by the wind's untimely blast,
Parch'd by the sun's directer ray,
The momentary glories waste,
The short-lived beauties die away.
3 So blooms the human face divine,
When youth its pride of beauty shows:
Fairer than spring the colours shine,
And sweeter than the virgin rose.
4 Or worn by slowly-rolling years,
Or broke by sickness in a day,
The fading glory disappears,
The short-lived beauties die away.
5 Yet these, new rising from the tomb,
With lustre brighter far shall shine,
Revive with ever-during bloom,
Safe from diseases and decline.
6 Let sickness blast, let death devour,
If heaven must recompense our pains;
Perish the grass, and fade the flower,
If firm the word of God remains.
The pledge of immortality.
UR great Creator, God,
this house of clay,
Can re-inspire the breathless clod,
In his appointed day.
From dust he form'd us man,
And shall we doubt his power!
No, surely the Almighty can
Our moulder'd dust restore.
2 Who breathed into our earth
The breath of life divine,
Can, by a new celestial birth,
God and the sinner join:
Thus we the pledge receive
Of immortality,
Sure that our bodies too shall live
Forever one with thee.
1st P. M. 6 lines 88.
In my flesh shall I see God.
CALL the world's Redeemer mine;
He lives who died for me, I know,
Who bought my soul with blood divine:
Jesus shall re-appear below,-
Stand in that Ireadful day unknown,
And fix on earth his heavenly throne.
2 Then the last judgment-day shall conie;
And though the worms this skin devour,
The Judge shall call me from the tomb,
Shall bid the greedy grave restore,
And raise this individual me,
God in the flesh, my God, to see.
3 In this identic body, I,
With eyes of flesh refined, restored,
Shall see that self-same Saviour nigh,
See for myself my smiling Lord;
See with ineffable delight,
Nor faint to bear the glorious sight.
4 Then let the worms demand their prey,
The greedy grave my reins consume;
With joy I drop my mould'ring clay,
And rest till my Redeemer come;
On Christ my life, in death rely,
Secure that I can never die..
Exulting in the fix' victory.
WHEN the last trumpet's
This rending earth sha. snake,
When opening graves shall yield their charge, And dust to life awake,
2 Those bodies that corrupted fell
Shall incorrupt arise,
And mortal forms shall spring to life
Immortal in the skies.
3 Behold, what heavenly prophets sung
Is now at last fulfill'd;
And Death yields up his ancient reign,
And, vanquish'd, quits the field.
4 Let Faith exalt her joyful voice,
And now in triumph sing:-
O Grave, where is thy victory!
And where, O Death, thy sting!
7th P. M. 8 lines 78.
Clothed with immortality.
SPIRIT, leave thy house of clay;
Ling'ring dust, resign thy breath;
Spirit, cast thy chains away;
Dust, be thou dissolved in death:-
Thus the mighty Saviour speaks,
While the faithful Christian dies;
Thus the bonds of life he breaks,
And the ransom'd captive flies.
2 Pris'ner, long detain'd below,
Pris'ner, now with freedom blest,
Welcome from a world of wo;
Welcome to a land of rest:-
Thus the choir of angels sing,
As they bear the soul on high,
While with hallelujahs ring
All the regions of the sky.
8 Grave, the guardian of our dust,
Grave, the treasury of the skies,
Every atom of thy trust
Rests in hope again to rise:
Hark! the judgment-trumpet calls-
Soul, rebuild thy house of lay;
Immortality thy walls,
And eternity thy day.
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