662
Consolations in sickness.
WHEN languor and disease invade This house of clay, 'Tis sweet to look beyond my pains, And long to fly away;-
2 Sweet to look inward, and attend The whispers of his love; Sweet to look upward, to the place Where Jesus pleads above ;-
3 Sweet to look back, and see my name In life's fair book set down; Sweet to look forward, and behold Eternal joys my own;-
4 Sweet to reflect how grace divine My sins on Jesus laid; Sweet to remember that his blood My debt of suff'ring paid;— 5 Sweet to rejoice in lively hope, That, when my change shall come, Angels shall hover round my bed, And waft my spirit home.
6 If such the sweetness of the stream, What must the fountain be,
Where saints and angels draw their bliss Directly, Lord, from thee.
663
Recovery from sickness.
MY God, thy service well demands
of my days;
The Why was this fleeting breath renew'd, But to renew thy praise?'
2 Thine arms of everlasting love Did this weak frame sustain,
When life was hov'ring o'er the grave, And nature sank with pain.
3 I calmly bow'd my fainting head Upon thy faithful breast, And waited for my Father's call To his eternal rest.
4 Into thy hands, my Saviour God, Did I my soul resign,
In firm dependence on that truth Which made salvation mine.
5 Back from the borders of the grave, At thy command, I come; Nor will I ask a speedier flight To my celestial home.
6 Where thou appointest mine abode, There would I choose to be; For in thy presence death is life, And earth is heaven with thee.
664
The gates of death.
0
THOU God who hearest prayer, Every hour and everywhere, Listen to my feeble breath, Now I touch the gates of death:- For His sake whose blood I plead, Hear me in this hour of need.
2 Hear and save me, gracious Lord, For my trust is in thy word; Wash me from the stain of sin, That thy peace may rule within; May I know myself thy child, Ransom'd, pardon'd, reconciled. 3 Thou art merciful to save; Thou hast snatch'd me from the grave; I would kiss the chast'ning rod,
O my Father and my God! Only hide not now thy face, God of all-sufficient grace.
4 Leave me not, my strength, my trust; O remember I am dust: Leave me not again to stray; Leave me not the tempter's prey: Fix my heart on things above; Make me happy in thy love.
665
C. M.
A Sabbath in the sick-chamber.
THOUSANDS, O Lord of Hosts, this day
Around thine altars meet; And tens of thousands throng to pay Their homage at thy feet.
2 They sing thy deeds, as I have sung, In sweet and solemn lays;
Were I among them, my glad tongue Might learn new themes of praise.
3 For thou art in their midst to teach, When on thy Name they call; And thou hast blessings, Lord, for each,- Hast blessings, Lord, for all.
4 I, of such fellowship bereft, In spirit turn to thee:
O, hast thou not a blessing left,- A blessing, Lord, for me?
Behold thy pris'ner;-loose my bands, If 'tis thy gracious will;
If not,-contented in thy hands,— Behold thy pris'ner still.
6 I may not to thy courts repair, Yet here thou surely art; Lord, consecrate a house of prayer In my surrender'd heart.
7 To faith reveal the things unseen; To hope, the joys untold;
Let love, without a veil between, Thy glory now behold.
Pleading for mercy in the hour of affliction. me not off, almighty Lord,
Unneeded pain thou canst not give, Nor without cause thy children grieve. 2 Though sorrow break this wretched heart, And pain the soul and body part, O suffer not my soul to be
One moment separate from thee.
3 And now, in kind compassion, show What means this providential blow; That here I may thy mercy see, And all the good design'd for me. 667
The Friend who conquers death. WHEN death before my sight
Unequal to the dreadful fight,
My courage faints away. 2 How shall I meet this foe,
Whose frown my soul alarms? Dark horror sits upon his brow, And vict'ry waits his arms. 3 But with the eye of faith, Piercing beyond the grave, I see that Friend who conquers death, Whose arm alone can save.
668
The husband and father awaiting death. THOU faithful God of love,
Gladly I thy promise plead; Waiting for my last remove,-
Hast'ning to the happy dead: Lo! I cast on thee my care; Breathe my latest breath in prayer.
2 Trusting in thy word alone, I to thee my children leave: Call my little ones thy own; Give them all thy blessings, give: Keep them while on earth they breathe; Save their souls from endless death. 3 Whom I to thy grace commend, Into thy embraces take; Be her sure, immortal Friend,
Save her, for my Saviour's sake: Free from sin, from sorrow free, Let my widow trust in thee. 4 Father of the fatherless,
Husband of the widow, prove; Me and mine persist to bless;
Tell me we shall meet above: Seal the promise on my heart; Bid me then in peace depart.
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For victory in the dying hour. HEN on the brink of death
Waiting to pass that awful flood, Great God at thy command;-
2 When every scene of life Stands ready to depart;
3 Thou Source of joy supreme, Whose arm alone can save,- Dispel the darkness that surrounds The entrance to the grave. 4 Lay thy supporting hand
And the last sigh that shakes the frame Shall rend this bursting heart;—
Beneath my sinking head; And with a ray of love divine Illume my dying bed.
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