4 No forrow drowns his lifted eyes,
No horror wrefts the ftruggling fighs,
As from the finner's breaft;
His God, the God of peace and love,
Pours kindly folace from above,
And heals his foul with rest.
5 O grant, my Saviour, and my friend,
Such joys may gild my peaceful end,
So calm my evening clofe ;
While loos'd from ev'ry earthly tie,
With fteady confidence I fly
To him from whom I rofe.
HYMN 147. C. M.
A prospect of heaven.
1 THERE is a land of pure delight,
Where faints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlafting fpring abides,
And never-with'ring flow'rs;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heav'nly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields beyond the fwelling flood
Stand drefs'd in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan ftood,
And Jordan roll'd between.
4 But tim'rous mortals start and fhrink, To cross this narrow fea;
And linger, fhiv'ring on the brink,
And fear to launch away.
5 Oh! could we make our doubts remove,
Thofe gloomy doubts that rise,
And fee the Canaan that we love,
With unbeclouded eyes!
6 Could we but climb where Mofes ftood,
And view the landscape o'er-
Not Jordan's ftreams, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
1 FAR from these scenes of night
Unbounded glories rife,
And realms of infinite delight,
Unknown to mortal eyes.
2 Fair land! could mortal eyes
But half its charms explore,
How would our fpirits long to rife,
And dwell on earth no more!
3 There fickness never comes,
There grief no more complains;
Health triumphs in immortal bloom,
And pureft pleasure reigns.
No ftrife, nor envy there
The fons of peace moleft;
But harmony, and love fincere,
Fill ev'ry happy breast.
5 No cloud thofe regions know,
For ever bright and fair;
For fin, the fource of mortal woe,
Can never enter there.
6 There's no alternate night,
Nor fun's faint fickly ray;
But glory from th' eternal throne
Spreads everlasting day.
7 Oh! may this profpect fire
Our hearts with ardent love;
May lively faith and ftrong defire
Bear ev'ry thought above.
HYMN 148. 61. L. M.
Life, death, and refurrection.
1 ETERNAL GOD, how frail is man!
Few are the hours, and short the span,
Between the cradle and the grave:
Who can prolong his vital breath?
Who from the bold demands of death
Hath skill to fly, or pow'r to fave ?
2 But let no murm'ring heart complain,
That therefore man is made in vain,
Nor the Creator's grace diftruft:
For though his fervants, day by day,
Go to their graves, and turn to clay,
A bright reward awaits the juft.
3 Jefus has made thy purpose known,
A new and better life has shown,
And we the glorious tidings hear:
For ever bleffed be the Lord,
That we can read his holy word,
And find a refurrection there.
$4. HYMNS FOR PARTICULAR OCCASIONS.
1 THIS feast was Jesus' high beheft,
This cup of thanks his last request.
Ye who can feel his worth, attend,
Eat, drink, in mem'ry of your friend.
2 Around the patriot's buft ye throng,
Him ye exalt in fwelling fong:
For him the wreath of glory bind,
Who freed from vaffalage his kind.
3 And fhall not he your praises reap,
Who refcues from the iron-fleep?
The great deliverer, whofe breath
Unbinds the captives ev'n of death?
4 Shall he, who, fellow-men to fave,
Became a tenant of the grave,
Unthank'd, uncelebrated rife,
Pafs unremember'd to the skies?
5 Chriftians! unite with loud acclaim
To hymn the Saviour's welcome name :
On earth extol his wondrous love
Repeat his praise in worlds above.
HYMN 150. L. M.
Fidelity to our Saviour.
1 SHALL I forfake that heav'nly Friend, On whom my noblest hopes depend? Forbid it, that my wand'ring heart From thee, my Saviour, fhould depart ! 2 First let the wheels of life ftand ftill, Ere I forget thy gracious will; Ere I fubmit to guilty fhame, And bring difhonour on his name. 3 Faithful to thee and to thy laws, With zeal I would maintain thy caufe, The cause of truth and righteousness, 'Midft trial, fuff'ring, and diftrefs. 4 If e'er I'm call'd t'encounter death For thee, may I refign my breath; And reap, at laft, the bright reward Which waits the fervants of the Lord.
HYMN 151. L. M.
Remembrance of Chrift.
1 "EAT, drink, in mem'ry of your friend !"
Such was our master's laft requeft;
Who all the pangs of death endur'd,
That we might live for ever bleft.
2 Yes, we'll record thy matchless love,
Thou deareft, tend'reft, beft of friends!
Thy dying love the nobleft praise
Of long eternity tranfcends.
|