VI.

The people who know
The Saviour below,

With burning affection to worship Him glow.

VII.

This bleffing is mine,
Through favour divine:

But, O my Redeemer, the glory be thine!

VIII.

The work is of grace,

Thine, thine be the praise!

And mine to adore Thee, and tell of thy ways.

CLXXVII. Difmiffion. P. M.

I.

LORD, difmifs us with thy bleffing,

Fill our heartswith joy and peace,

Let us each, thy love poffeffing
Triumph in redeeming grace:
O refresh us,

Trav'ling through this wilderness.

II.

Thanks we give and adoration,
For thy gofpel's joyful found:

May the fruits of thy falvation
In our hearts and lives abound;
May thy prefence

With us, evermore, be found.

III.

So, whene'er the fignal's given,
Us from earth to call away,
Borne on angels wings to heaven,
Glad the fummons to obey,
We shall furely

Reign with Chrift in endless day.

CLXXVIII. The dying Chriftian to his foul. P. M.

I.

VITAL fpark of heav'nly flame!

Quit, O quit this mortal frame!

Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
O the pain, the blifs of dying!
Ceafe, fond nature, cease thy ftrife,
And let me languish into life.

II.

Hark! they whisper; angels fay,
Sifter fpirit, cone away.

What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my fenfes, fhuts my fight, Drowns my fpirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my foul, can this be death?

III.

The world recedes; it disappears!
Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears
With founds feraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings, I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory?
O death! where is thy fting?

CLXXIX. Funeral of a Saint. P. M.

A

I.

H lovely appearance of death;
No fight upon earth is so fair;
Not all the gay pageants that breathe
Can with a dead body compare:
With folemn delight I survey

The corpfe when the fpirit is fled,
In love with the beautiful clay,
And longing to lie in its ftead.

II.

How bleft is our brother bereft,

Of all that could burthen his mind,

How eafy the foul that hath left
This wearifome body behind.
Of evil incapable thou,

Whofe relicts with envy I fee,
No longer in misery now,

No longer a finner like me.

III.

This earth is affected no more
With fickness, and fhaken with pain,
The war in the members is o'er,
And never fhall vex him again:
No anger henceforward, or fhame,
Shall redden this innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,
And paffion is vanish'd away.

IV.

The languishing head is at reft,
Its thinking and aching are o'er ;
The quiet immoveable breast

Is heav'd by affliction no more:
The heart is no longer the feat
Of trouble and torturing pain,
It ceases to flutter and beat,
It never fhall flutter again.

V.

The lids he fo feldom could close,
By forrow forbidden to fleep,

Seal'd up in eternal repose,

Have ftrangely forgotten to weep: The fountain can yield no fupplies,

Thefe hollows from water are free, The tears are all wip'd from these eyes, And evil they never shall fee.

CLXXX. On the death of an eminent Saint. P. M.

I.

N the everlafling mountains,
Lo, the thirsty, longing foul
Drinks, where from a thousand fountains,
Endless joys in rivers roll.

II.

Burft the Captive from his prifon,
Glad to leave the realms of night;
Glorious now the Exile's rifen

To his home, his God, in light.

III.

"Chrift, the ftrength of heav'nly warriors!" Shouts the victor spirit now;

"Arm'd by thee I've ftorm'd the barriers! Conquer'd is the haughty foe!