74. THE TOLLING BELL.

OFT as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, 'Am I
Prepared, should I be call'd to die?'

Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone,
And plunged into a world unknown.

Then leaving all I loved below,
To God's tribunal I must go;
Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state.

But could I bear to hear Him say,
'Depart, accursed, far away!
With Satan, in the lowest hell,

Thou art for ever doom'd to dwell.'

Lord Jesus! help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in Thee;
Apply Thy blood, Thy Spirit give,
Subdue my sin, and let me live.

Then, when the solemn bell I hear,
If saved from guilt, I need not fear;
Nor would the thought distressing be,
Perhaps it next may toll for me!

Rather my spirit would rejoice,
And long and wish to hear Thy voice:
Glad when it bids me earth resign,
Secure of heaven, if Thou art mine.

75. HOPE BEYOND THE GRAVE.

My soul, this curious house of clay,
Thy present frail abode,

Must quickly fall to worms a prey,
And thou return to God.

Canst thou, by faith, survey with joy
The change before it come?
And say, 'Let death this house destroy,
I have a heavenly home?

The Saviour, whom I then shall see
With new admiring eyes,
Already has prepared for me

A mansion in the skies.*

I feel this mud-wall cottage shake,
And long to see it fall,

That I my willing flight may take
To Him who is my all.

Burden'd and groaning then no more,
My rescued soul shall sing,

As up the shining path I soar,
'Death, thou hast lost thy sting!'
* 2 Cor. v. 1.

Dear Saviour, help us now to seek,
And know Thy grace's power,
That we may all this language speak
Before the dying hour!

76. THERE THE WEARY ARE AT REST.

COURAGE, my soul! behold the prize
The Saviour's love provides;
Eternal life beyond the skies

For all whom here He guides.

The wicked cease from troubling there,
The weary are at rest;*
Sorrow, and sin, and pain, and care,
No more approach the blest.

A wicked world and wicked heart
With Satan now are join'd;
Each acts a too successful part
In harassing my mind.

In conflict with this threefold troop,
How weary, Lord, am I!

Did not Thy promise bear me up,
My soul must faint and die.

But fighting in my Saviour's strength,
Though mighty are my foes,

I shall a conqueror be at length

O'er all that can oppose.

* Job iii. 17.

Then why, my soul, complain or fear?

The crown of glory see!

The more I toil and suffer here,

The sweeter rest will be.

77. THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.

DAY of judgment, day of wonders!
Hark! the trumpet's awful sound,
Louder than a thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round!

How the summons will the sinner's heart confound!

See the Judge our nature wearing,

Clothed in majesty divine!

You who long for His appearing

Then shall say, 'This God is mine!' Gracious Saviour, own me in that day for

Thine!

At His call the dead awaken,

Rise to life from earth and sea;

All the pow'rs of nature shaken

By His looks, prepare to flee:

Careless sinner, what will then become of

thee?

Horrors past imagination

Will surprise your trembling heart, When you hear your condemnation,

'Hence, accursed wretch, depart!

Thou with Satan and his angels have thy part!'

Satan, who now tries to please you,

Lest you timely warning take, When that word is past, will seize you, Plunge you in the burning lake.

Think, poor sinner, thy eternal all's at stake!

But to those who have confessed,

Loved, and served the Lord below, He will say, 'Come near, ye blessed; See the kingdom I bestow :

You for ever shall My love and glory know.'

Under sorrows and reproaches,

May this thought your courage raise! Swiftly God's great day approaches,

Sighs shall then be changed to praise:

We shall triumph when the world is in a blaze!

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