Let us come boldly. Heb. iv. 16.

787
Come, let us pray; 't is sweet to feel
That God himself is near;
That, while we at his footstool kneel,
His mercy deigns to hear.
Though sorrows crowd life's dreary way,
This is our solace-let us pray.

Come, let us pray; the burning brow,
The heart oppressed with care,
And all the woes that throng us now,
Will be relieved by prayer.
Our God will smile our griefs away;
Oh, glorious thought!-come, let us pray.
Come, let us pray; the sin-sick soul

Her weight of guilt must feel;
But, hark! the glorious tidings roll,
While here we humbly kneel,
Jesus will wash that guilt away,
And pardon grant-then let us pray!
Come, let us pray; the mercy-seat.

Invites the fervent prayer;
Our heavenly Father waits to greet
The contrite spirit there:
Then loiter not, nor longer stay
From him who loves us-let us pray!

Josiah Conder, 1789-1855.

788 The dead in Christ shall rise.

1 Thess. iv, 16.

C. L. M.
How sweetly o'er earth's gloomy skies
Shall break th'eternal morn,
When those who sleep in Christ shall rise,
To life immortal born;

When countless forms in glory fair,
Shall meet their Saviour in the air.
Oh, may we see our Saviour's face
With gladness in that day,
There know the fulness of his grace,
When sorrow flees away:

This hope our fainting hearts shall cheer,
While pilgrims in earth's desert drear.

Nor shall we sorrow when we know
The joys laid up in heaven;
Nor think that to us here below
Too much of toil was given;
For earthly woes endured while here,
Shall brighten all our glories there.
H., 1858.

The tempest shall sound. 1 Cor. xv. 52

787-790

C. L. M.

Be still, be still, impatient soul,
Rest, weary mourner, rest;
The trump shall sound, the thunder roll,
And heaving earth's cold breast-
Call from their stern and silent bed
The millions of the ransomed dead.

The hour is coming, when the sun
At once shall pass away:
Eclipsed before a mightier one,

The light of Heaven's pure day;
A splendor, high above all height,
Sun of a morn that knows no night.

Yet, ere that hour, Almighty King,
Thy vials shall be poured;
Famine the heart of nations wring,
And death unsheath the sword;
And thrones, to flee that hour of doom,
Call to the mountains and the tomb.

Lord, like thine angels make us here,
A spirit and a flame;
Teach, us, in holy faith and fear,
To triumph in thy name,
Cling to the cross, and plead thy love,
And join thee with thy saints above.
George Croly, 1780-1860.
C.L.M.

790 Rejoicing in hope: patient in tribulation.
Rom. xii. 13.
When I can trust my all with God,
In trial's fearful hour,
Bow, all resigned beneath his rod,

And bless his sparing power;
A joy springs up amid distress,-
A fountain in the wilderness.

Oh! to be brought to Jesus' feet,
Though sorrows fix me there,
Is still a privilege: and sweet

The energies of prayer,
Tho' sighs and tears its language be,
If Christ be nigh, and smile on me.

Then blessed be the hand that gave;
Still blessed when it takes.
Blessed be he who smites to save,

Who heals the heart he breaks. Perfect and true are all his ways, Whom heav'n adores and death obeys. Josiah Conder, 1789-1865.

Not in dark and hopeless anguish
Should the heirs of glory weep
O'er the beds of saints who languish,

O'er the graves of saints who sleep; God who brought from death's dejection Christ, our Shepherd, and our King, Shall with him, in resurrection,

Those who sleep in Jesus bring.
CHORUS.

Blessed hope! what consolation

Doth this word of truth afford.
We shall share complete salvation,
And be ever with the Lord.

We who wait as for the morning,
And our vigil faithful keep,
Shall not sooner see the dawning
Than shall they who are asleep;
For the Lord from heav'n descending,
Loud shall shout his high command;
Angel throngs his course attending,
Wait the signal of his hand.

Loud th' Archangel's voice resoundeth!
Startling earth with strange surprise;
Hark, God's mighty trumpet soundeth!
First the dead in Christ arise:
Breaking from death's dark dominions,
Changed to glory at his word,
We with them, on angel pinions,

Shall arise to meet the Lord.
We shall meet, no more to sever
From the saints we loved so well;
So shall we, in joy forever,

With the Lord in glory dwell:
We shall know him as our Brother,
Share the bliss His home affords;
Wherefore comfort one another
With these sweet, consoling words.

H. 1880.

88 & 78.

Lo, the King of Glory cometh!
On his head are many crowns;
Thronged by bright, angelic legions,
Loud his mighty trump resounds.
Then the slumbering saints awaking,
Shall their songs immortal sing;
Thro' death's gloomy prison breaking,
See them rise to meet their King.

CHORUS.

792-794

Lo, the King of Glory reigneth!
Earth his power and sway shall own;
God his righteous cause maintaineth,

And his will on earth is done.

Lo, the King of Glory reigneth!
Hark, a mighty voice proclaimeth,
Death and hell before him fall;

Crown him, crown him, Lord of all. Far to every tribe and nation

Spreads the knowledge of his name, Lo, he comes to bring salvation, Myriad voices sound his fame. and glory,

Earthly power,

and pomp,

Passes like a meteor's gleam; Ended is earth's transient story, Vanished like a mocking dream. Gone the hopes that mortals cherish, Like the mists before the day; Earthly crowns and thrones shall perish,

His shall never pass away,

vi. 14.

H., 1880.

794 The cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. 88 & 78. In the cross of Christ I glory,

Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime. When the woes of life o'ertake me, Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, Never shall the cross forsake me: Lo! it glows with peace and joy. CHORUS.

In the cross of Christ I glory,

Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime. When the sun of bliss is beaming Light and love upon my way, From the cross the radiance streaming, Adds new luster to the day. Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,

By the cross are sanctified; Peace is there, that knows no measure, Joys that through all time abide.

Autumn.

John Bowring, 1825.