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4 Thrice happy morn for those

Who love the ways of peace;
No night of sorrow e'er shall close,

Or shade their perfect bliss.

C. M.
The dreadful sentence.

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The appointed hour makes haste,
When I must stand before my Judge,

And pass the solemn test.
2 Jesus, thou source of all my joys,

Thou ruler of my heart,
How could I bear to hear thy voice

Pronounce the word, -Depart!
8 The thunder of that awful word

Would so torment my ear,
'Twould tear my soul usunder, Lord,

With most tormenting fear.
4 What, to be banish'd from my Lord,

And yet forbid to die;
To linger in eternal pain,

And death forever fly!
50 wretched state of deep despair,

To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where

I must not taste his love.

L. M.
The final conflagration.
THE great archangel's trump shall sound,

(While twice ten thousand thunders roar.) Tear up the graves, and cleave the ground,

And make the greedy sea restore.
2 The greedy sea shall yield her dead;

The earth no more her slain conceal;
Sinners shall lift their guilty head,

And shrink to see a yawning hell."

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8 But we, who now our Lord confess,

And faithful to the end endure,
Shall stand in Jesus' righteousness,

Stand, as the Rock of Ages, sure.
& We, while the stars from heaven shall fall,

And mountains are on mountains hurlid,
Shall stand unmoved amidst them all,

And smile to see a burning world.
☆ The earth and all the works therein

Dissolve, by raging flames destroy'd;
While we survey the awful scene,

And mount above the fiery void.
6 By faith we now transcend the skies,

And on that ruin'd world look down:
By love above all height we rise,
And share the everlasting throne.


C. M. The dissolution of all things. JESUS, to thy dear wounds we flee;

We shelter in thy side; Assured that all who trust in thee

Shall evermore abide.
2 Then let the thund'ring trumpet sound;

The latest lightnings glare;
The monntnins melt; the solid ground

Dissolve as liquid sir;
8 The huge celestial bodies roll

Amidst the gen'ral fire;
And shrivel as 8 parchment seroll,

And all in smoke expire :-
4 Yet still the Lord, the Saviour reigna,

When nature is destroy'd; And no created thing remains

Thmughout the faming void.

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5 Sublime on his eternal throne,

He speaks the almighty word:
His fiat is obey'd : 'tis cone;

And paradise restored.
6 So be it; let this system end;

This ruinous earth and skies;
The New Jerusalem descend,

The new creation rise.
7 Thy power omnipotent assume;

Thy brightest majesty
And when thou dost in glory come,

My Lord, remember me.

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39th P. M.
The end of things created.
TREAT God! what do I see and hear!
u The end of things created ;
The Judge of mankind doth appear,

On clouds of glory sented :
The trumpet sounds; the graves restore
The dead which they contain'd before ;

Prepare, my soul, to meet him.
9 The dead in Christ shall first arise,

At the last trumpet's sounding,
Caught up to meet him in the skies,

With joy their Lord surrounding:
No gloomy fears their souls dismay;
His presence sheds eternal day

On those prepared to meet him.
8 Great God! what do I see and hear!

The end of things created :
Behold the Judge of man appear,

On clouds of glory seated :
Low at his cross I view the day
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
And thus prepare to meet him.




12th P. M. 76, 76, 78, 78,
Security of the righteous at the last day,
STAND the' omnipotent decree;
Nature's end we wait to see,

And hear her final groan.
Let this earth dissolve, and blend

In death the wicked and the just;
Let those pond'rous orbs descend,

And grind us into dust :-
2 Rests secure the righteous man;

At his Redeemer's beck,
Sure to emerge and rise again,

And mount above the wreck:
Lo! the heavenly spirit towers,

Like flames o'er nature's funeral pyro;
Triumphs in immortal powers,

And claps his wings of fire.
3 Nothing hath the jnst to lose,

By worlds on worlds destroy'd;
Far beneath his feet he views,

Wità siniles, the flaming void;
Sees this universe renew'd, -

The grand millennial reign begun;
Shouts, with all the sons of God,

Around the eternal throne.
4 Resting in this glorious hope,

To be at last restored,
Yield we now our bodies up,

To earthquake, plague, or sword:
List’ning for the call divine,

The latest trumpet of the seven,
Soon our soul and dust shall join,

And both fly up to heaven.

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