Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Nor be the heavenly warning vain,

Which calls to watch and pray. O let us fly-to Jesus fly,

Whose powerful arm can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high

And triumph o'er the grave.
Great God! thy sovereign grace inapart

With cleansing, healing power ;
This only can prepare the heart

For death's surprising hour. 443

Warwick,
NOW let our mourning hearts revive,

And all our tears be dry ;
Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief,

Which view a Saviour nigh?
What tho' the arm of conquering death,

Does God's own house invade !
What though the prophet and the priest

Be numbered with the dead!
Th'eternal Shepherd still survives,

New comforts to impart;
His eye still guides us, and his voice

Still animates our heart.
Through every scene of life and death,

The Lord shall be our trust;
And he shall be our children's song,

When we are cold in dust.

<

444 wwwwwwwand Calvary. 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,

Cloth'd 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 powers of nature shaken,
By his looks prepare to flee:

Careless sinner,
What will then become of thee?

But to those who have confessed

Lov'd and serv'd 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 our courage raise !

Swifty God's great day approaches,
Sighs shall then be chang’d for praise ;

We shall triumph,
When the world is in a blaze !
445
wwwwwwar

Abingdon. THE Lord, the Judge, before his throne

Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,

And near the western sky.
No more shall bold blasphemers say,

Judgment will ne'er begin;
No more abuse his long delay,

To impudence and sin.
Thron'd in a cloud our God shall come,

Bright flames prepare the way,
Thunder and darkness, fire, and storm,

Lead on the dreadful day.
Heaven from above his call shall hear

Attending angels come,
And earth and bell shall know and fear

His justice and their doom.
“But gather all my saints,” he cries

“ That made their peace with God, By the Redeemer's sacrifice.

And seal'd it with his blood. Their faith and works brought forth to light

Shall make the world confess

My sentence of reward is right,

And heaven adore my grace. 446

Burnham,
YE virgin souls, arise !

With all the dead, awake,
Unto salvation wise,

Oil in your vessels take;
Upstarting, at the midnight cry,
Behold your heavenly Bridegroom nigh.
He comes,

he comes to call
The nations to his bar,
And take to glory all

Who meet for glory are;
Make ready for your free reward,
Go forth with joy to meet your Lord.
Ye that have here receiv'd

The unction from above,
And in his Spirit liv'd,

And thirsted for his love ;
Jesus shall claim you for his bride,
Rejoice with all the sanctified.
Then let us wait to hear

The trumpet's welcome sound;
To see our Lord appear,

Watching may we be found,
Enrob’d in righteousness divine.
In which the bride shall ever shine.

vesen

447

Westbury Leigh. WHEN thou, my righteous Judge shall come To fetch thy ransom'd people home,

Shall I among then stand ?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,

Be found at thy right hand ?
I love to meet among them now,
Before thy gracious feet to bow,

Though vilest of them all :
But can I bear the piercing thought,
What if my name should be left out

When thou for them sbalt call?
Prevent, prevent it by thy grace;
Be thou, dear Lord, my hiding-place,

In this th' accepted day;
Thy pard’ning voice, O let me hear,
To still my unbelieving fear,

Nor let me fall away.
Let me among thy saints be found
Whene'er th' archangel's trump shall sound

To see thy smiling face.
Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing,
While heaven's resounding mansions ring

With shouts of sovereign grace. 448

Trumpet HE comes ! he comes ! the Judge' severe; The seventh trumpet speaks him near!

« AnteriorContinuar »