2 The year rolls round, and steals away The breath that first it gave; Whate'er we do, where'er we bc, We're traveling to the grave.

3 Great God ! on what a slender thread Hang everlasting things!

Th' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings.

4 Infinite joy, or endless woe,

Attends on every breath;
And yet how unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death!

5 Waken, O Lord! our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And, if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.

Strange that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune so long!

4 But 't is our God supports our frame,
The God that built us first;
Salvation to th' almighty Name
That reared us from the dust.

679.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

The Shortness and Vanity of Life. (1340.)

1 How short and hasty is our life!
How vast our souls' affairs!
Yet senseless mortals vainly strive
To lavish out their years.

2 Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay;
Just like a story, or a song,
We pass our lives away.

3 God from on high invites us home,
But we march heedless on,
And, ever hastening to the tomb,
Stoop downward as we run.

4 How we deserve the deepest hell
That slight the joys above!
What chains of vengeance should we feel,
That break such cords of love.

5 Draw us, O God! with sovereign grace,
And lift our thoughts on high,
That we may end this mortal race,
And see salvation nigh.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

BANGOR.

William Tansur's Coll., 1735.

cry

4 % 9-2

"Ye

lie.

1 PEACE!-'t is the Lord Jehovah's hand,
That blasts our joys in death,
Changes the visage once so dear,
And gathers back our breath.

2 "T is he, the Potentate supreme
Of all the worlds above,-
Whose steady counsels wisely rule,
Nor from their purpose move.

1 WHEN, bending o'er the brink of life,

My trembling soul shall stand, Waiting to pass death's awful flood, Great God at thy command;

2 When every long-loved scene of life Stands ready to depart;

When the last sigh that shakes the frame, Shall rend this bursting heart;

-

3 0 thou great Source of joy supreme, Whose arm alone can save !Dispel the darkness, that surrounds The entrance to the grave.

Our souls a sacrifice;

Yet scatters, with unwearied hand,
A thousand rich supplies.

4 Our covenant God and Father he,
In Christ, our bleeding Lord,
Whose grace can heal the bursting heart,
With one reviving word.

5 Silent I own Jehovah's name,
I kiss thy scourging hand;

And yield my comforts and my life

To thy supreme command.

Philip Doddridge, 1740.

tomb.

683.

The Christian's Peace in Death. (1847.)

1 BEHOLD the western evening light!
It melts in deepening gloom;
So calmly Christians sink away,
Descending to the tomb.

2 The winds breathe low; the withering leaf Scarce whispers from the tree;

So gently flows the parting breath,
When good men cease to be.

3 How beautiful on all the hills

The crimson light is shed!

"T is like the peace the Christian gives To mourners round his bed.

4 How mildly on the wandering cloud The sunset beam is cast!

"T is like the memory left behind,

When loved ones breathe their last.
5 And now, above the dews of night,
The yellow star appears;
So faith springs in the heart of those
Whose eyes are bathed in tears.

6 But soon the morning's happier light
Its glory shall restore;

And eyelids, that are sealed in death,
Shall wake, to close no more.
William B. O. Peabody, 1823.

REST,

William B. Bradbury, 1844.

1 ASLEEP in Jesus! blesséd sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep,
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes!

2 Asleep in Jesus! Oh! how sweet
To be for such a slumber meet,
With holy confidence to sing-

That death hath lost his venomed sting!

3 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest,

Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour
That manifests the Saviour's power.

4 Asleep in Jesus! Oh! for me
May such a blissful refuge be !
Securely shall my ashes lie,
Waiting the summons from on high.
5 Asleep in Jesus! time nor space
Debars this precious hiding-place:
On Indian plains, or Lapland snows,
Believers find the same repose.

6 Asleep in Jesus! far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.
Mrs. Margaret Mackay, 1832.

So sinks the gale, when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.

3 A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys; And naught disturbs that peace profound, Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears, Where lights and shades alternate dwell! [pears! How bright th' unchanging morn apFarewell, inconstant world! farewell!

5 Life's labor done, as sinks the clay, Light from its load the spirit flies; While heaven and earth combine to say, "How blest the righteous when he dies!"

1 OH! LET me, heavenly Lord! extend My view, to life's approaching end: What are my days?-a span, their line; And what my age, compared with thine? 2 Our life advancing to its close,

While scarce its earliest dawn it knows,
Swift, through an empty shade, we run,
And vanity and man are one.
3 God of my fathers! here, as they,

I walk, the pilgrim of a day;
A transient guest, thy works admire,
And instant to my home retire.

James Merrick, 1765.