6 How sweet 't will be, at such an hour,
And 'mid a scene so fair,
To lift thy tearful eyes to heaven,
And think that he is there!

557

1

PART III. 8.7. Benediction, 320. Mourning the loss of a child. HAST thou lost a child most precious? is thy Father brings thee low: 'Mid th' affliction he is gracious,

Pitying while he deals the blow. Mourner, lift thine eye above thee; "T is from thence the rod descends: He must chasten if he love thee:

Kiss the hand that is a friend's.

2 He would bring the wanderer near him,
Cause the contrite tear to flow;
Take the draught, and love and fear him,
Though the cup be fill'd with woe.
We can only share thy sadness,
Mingling sighs and tears with thine;
He can give celestial gladness,

Quench the fire, and yet refine.

3 Oh, there is no cross, no fetter,

While we bear the yoke of love:

558 PART II. 8.7. Felicity, 535.

Thy will be done. Matt. xxvi. 42. JESUS, while our hearts are bleeding O'er the spoils that death has won. We would, at this solemn meeting,

Calmly say, 'Thy will be done.

2 Though cast down, we're not forsaken, Though afflicted, not alone;

Thou didst give, and thou hast taken, Blessed Lord, 'Thy will be done.'

3 Fill us now with deep contrition; Take away these hearts of stone; And may all, with true submission, Meekly say, "Thy will be done.' 4 Though to-day we're fill'd with mourning,

Mercy still is on the throne; With thy smiles of love returning, We can sing, 'Thy will be done.' 5 By thy hands the boon was given, Thou hast taken but thine own; Lord of earth, and God of heaven, Evermore Thy will be done.'

Sorrows point to rest above.

Drooping mourner, canst thou languish
Near the great Consoler's feet?

He can give thee joy for anguish :
Seek him at the mercy-seat.

558

1

1

L. M. Job, 474.

The death of the sinner and the suint. FAWCETT.

WHAT scenes of horror and of dread Await the sinner's dying bed! Death's terrors all appear in sight, Presages of eternal night.

2 His sins in dreadful order rise,

And fill his soul with sad surprise; Mount Sinai's thunder stuns his ears, And not one ray of hope appears.

Flow o'er your children dead, Say not, in transports of despair, That all your hopes are fled.

2 While cleaving to that darling dust, In fond distress ye lie,

Rise, and with joy and reverence view
A heavenly Parent nigh.

3 Though, your young branches torn away,
Like wither'd trunks ye stand,
With fairer verdure shall ye bloom,
Touch'd by th' Almighty's hand.

4 'I'll give the mourner,' saith the Lord, 'In my own house a place:

No names of daughters and of sons
Could yield so high a grace.

5 Transient and vain is every hope
A rising race can give;

In endless honour and delight My children all shall live."'

6 We welcome, Lord, those rising tears, Through which thy face we see,

And bless those wounds, which thro' our hearts

Prepare a way for thee.

Where'er he turns he finds no rest;
Death strikes the blow: he groans and
And, in despair and horror, dies. [cries,

4 Not so the heir of heavenly bliss ;-
His soul is fill'd with conscious peace;
A steady faith subdues his fear;
He sees the happy Canaan near.

5 His mind is tranquil and serene;
No terrors in his looks are seen;
His Saviour's smile dispels the gloom,
And smooths his passage to the tomb.
6 Lord, make my faith and love sincere,
My judgment sound, my conscience clear;
And, when the toils of life are past,
May I be found in peace at last.

is

The Christian is living in Jesus's love, And gladly receiving a kingdom above. 2 All honour and praise are Jesus's due;Supported by grace he fought his way through; Triumphantly glorious, through Jesus's zeal, And more than victorious o'er sin, death, and hell.]

3 Then let us record the conquering name,

Our Captain and Lord with shoutings proclaim; Who trust in his passion and follow their Head, To certain salvation shall surely be led. 4 O Jesus! lead on thy militant care,

And give us the crown of righteousness there, Where, dazzled with glory, the seraphim gaze, Or prostrate adore thee in silence of praise. 5 Within us display thy love when we die, And bear us away to mansions on high; The kingdom be given of glory divine, And crown us in heaven eternally thine. PART I. S. M. Dunbar, 252. Preparation for death.

561

1

2

3

Matt. xxiv. 45. TOPLADY'S COLL. REPARE me, gracious God,

PREPA

To stand before thy face;

Thy Spirit must the work perform For it is all of grace.

In Christ's obedience clothe,

And wash me in his blood;

So shall I lift my head with joy,
Among the sons of God.

Do thou my sins subdue,

Thy sovereign love make known,
The spirit of my mind renew,
And save me in thy Son.

4 Let me attest thy power,
Let me thy goodness prove,
Till my full soul can hold no more
Of everlasting love.

561

1

PART II. 8.7. Felicity, 535. The dying Christian encouraged.

C. WESLEY.

HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,

thy mourning days below:

Go, by angel guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus, go.

2 Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo, the Saviour stands above; Shows the purchase of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love. 3 Struggle through thy latest passion To thy dear Redeemer's breast, To his uttermost salvation,

To his everlasting rest.

4 For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain:
Die, to live the life of glory,
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.

561

1

IN

N vain our fancy strives to paint
The moment after death,
The glories that surround the saints,
When yielding up their breath.

2 One gentle sigh their fetters breaks: We scarce can say, They 're gone!' Before the willing spirit takes

Her mansion near thy throne.

3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace her in her flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides that world of light.

4 Thus much (and this is all) we know, They are completely blest:

Have done with sin, and care, and woe.
And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise his name,
His face they always view;
Then let us followers be of them,
That we may praise him too.

561 PART IV. 8's. Rosewarne, 49.

1

Death a happy exchange to a b
liever.
C. WESLEY.

REJOICE for a brother deceased;
Our loss is his infinite gain;
A soul out of prison released,

And freed from its bodily chain;
With songs let us follow his flight,
And mount with his spirit above,
Escaped to the mansions of light,
And lodged in the Eden of love.

2 Our brother the haven hath gain'd,
Out-flying the tempest and wind;
His rest he hath sooner obtain'd,
And left his companions behind,
Still toss'd on a sea of distress,
Hard toiling to make the blest shore,
Where all is assurance and peace,
And sorrow and sin are no more.

3 There all the ship's company meet,
Who sail'd with the Saviour beneath.
With shouting each other they greet,
And triumph o'er trouble and death:
The voyage of life 's at an end,
The mortal affliction is past;
The age that in heaven they spend,
For ever and ever shall last.

561

PART V. 7's. Florence, 239.

Triumph in death. c. WESLEY.
YES, the Christian's course is run,
Ended is the glorious strife;
Fought the fight, the work is done,
Death is swallow'd up of life!
Borne by angels on their wings,
Far from earth the spirit flies,
Finds his God, and sits, and sings,
Triumphing in Paradise.

? Join we then, with one accord,
In the new, the joyful song:
Absent from our loving Lord'
We shall not continue long:
We shall quit the house of clay,
We a better lot shall share;
We shall see the realms of day,
Meet our happy brother there.
3 Let the world bewail their dead,
Fondly of their loss complain;
Brother, friend, by Jesus freed,
Death to thee, to us, is gain:
Thou art enter'd into joy:

Let the unbelievers mourn;
We in songs our lives employ,
Till we all to God return.

561 PART VI. 7's. Jubilee, 403.

Fear not-die to live! TOPLADY. DEAT, thou native of the skies! EATHLESS principle, arise! Pearl of price, by Jesus bought, To his glorious likeness wrought, Go, to shine before his throneDeck his mediatorial crown; Go, his triumphs to adornMade for God, to God return! 2 Lo, he beckons from on high; Fearless to his presence flyThine the merit of his blood, Thine the righteousness of God! Angels, joyful to attend, Hovering, round thy pillar bend; Wait to catch the signal given, And escort thee quick to heaven! 3 Is thy earthly house distrest, Willing to retain its guest? 'T is not thou, but it, must dieFly, celestial tenant, flyBurst thy shackles-drop thy claySweetly breathe thyself awaySinging, to thy crown removeSwift of wing, and fired with love! 4 Shudder not to pass the stream, Venture all thy care on himHim, whose dying love and power Still'd its tossing, hush'd its roar; Safe is the expanded wave, Gentle as a summer's eve; Not one object of his care Ever suffer'd shipwreck there!

5 See the haven full in view!

Love divine shall bear thee through:
Trust to that propitious gale,
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail!

Saints in glory perfect made
Wait thy passage through the shade;
Ardent for thy coming o'er,

See they throng the blissful shore!
6 Mount, their transports to improve-
Join the longing choir above-
Swiftly to their wish be given-
Kindle higher joy in heaven!-
Such the prospects that arise
To the dying Christian's eyes!
Such the glorious vista, faith
Opens through the shades of death!
PART VII. 7's. Amboyna, 289.
Angelic welcome of a saint.

561

1'

Rev. xiv. 13. MONTGOMERY. leave thine house of clay!

Lingering dust, resign thy breath!
Spirit, cast thy chains away!

Dust, be thou dissolved in death!'
Thus the Almighty Saviour speaks,
While the faithful Christian dies!
Thus the bonds of life he breaks,
And the ransom'd captive flies!
2 Prisoner, long detain'd below!

Prisoner, now with freedom blest!
Welcome from a world of woe,
Welcome to a land of rest!''
Thus the choir of angels sing,
As they bear the soul on high,
While with hallelujahs ring

All the regions of the sky!

3 Grave, the guardian of our dust! Grave, the treasury of the skies! Every atom of thy trust

Rests in hope again to rise!

Hark! the judgment-trumpet calls!Soul, rebuild thy house of clayImmortality thy walls,

And eternity thy day!

562

PART I. C. M. Carolina, 13.

Departed saints asleep.

Mark v. 39. DODDRIDGE.

WHY flow these torrents of distress?'

(The gentle Saviour cries ;)

'Why are my sleeping saints survey'd With unbelieving eyes?

2 Death's feeble arm shall never boast A friend of Christ is slain,

Nor, o'er their meaner part in dust,
A lasting power retain.

3 'I come on wings of love,-I come,
The slumberers to awake;

My voice shall reach the deepest tomb, And all its bonds shall break.

HOU art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb:

The Saviour has pass'd through its portal before thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

2 Thou art gone to the grave!

longer behold thee,

we no

Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side;

But the wide arms of Mercy are spread to enfold thee,

And sinners may hope, since the Sinless has died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking,

Perhaps thy weak spirit in fear linger'd long;

But the sunshine of Paradise beam'd on thy waking,

And the sound which thou heard'st was the seraphim's song.

4 Thou art gone to the grave! but 't were wrong to deplore thee,

For God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and guide:

He gave thee, he took thee, and he will
restore thee;

And death has no sting since the
Saviour has died.

562

1

PART III. C. M. Durham, 400.
The same.

WHY should our tears in sorrow flow,

When God recalls his own;

And bids them leave a world of woe
For an immortal crown?

2 Is not e'en death a gain to those
Whose life to God was given?
Gladly to earth their eyes they close,
To open them in heaven.

3 Their toils are past: their work is done; And they are fully blest :

They fought the fight, the victory won, And enter'd into rest.

4 Then let our sorrows cease to flow,God has recall'd his own;

But let our hearts, in every woe,
Still say,Thy will be done!'

The same. 1 Thess. iv. 16. DOANE.

1 LIFT not thou the wailing voice. Weep not, 't is a Christian dieth;

Up, where blessed saints rejoice,

Ransom'd now, the spirit flieth: High in heaven's own light she dwelleth, Full the song of triumph swelleth: Freed from earth and earthly failing, Lift for her no voice of wailing.

2 Pour not thou the bitter tear: Heaven its book of comfort openeth, Bids thee sorrow not, nor fear,

But as one who always hopeth: Humbly here in faith relying, Peacefully in Jesus dying, Heavenly joy her eye is flushing,Why should thine with tears be gushing? 3 They who die in Christ are blest;

Ours be, then, no thought of grieving; Sweetly with their God they rest,

All their toils and troubles leaving; So be ours the faith that saveth, Hope that every trial braveth, Love that to the end endureth, And, through Christ, the crown secureth.

562 PART V. C. M. Turvey, 538.

1

Rest from sorrow.

1 Thess. iv. 3.

THEY suffer not, for whom we weep,
Whose loss we here deplore;

The fever'd body's dreamless sleep

Is broke by pain no more.

2 The warfare and the woe have ceased,
The struggle now is o'er;
The happy spirit is released,
The pilgrim weeps no more.

3 But who the happiness may speak
That saints departed find-
The everlasting joys that break
Upon the deathless mind?
But even here, enough we know
Our faith and hope to guide,

4

To check our sorrows as they flow, And bid our grief subside.

CHR

Of all his faithful dead; There's life for all the members

In Him the living Head;

Their dust he weighs and measures; Their every atom treasures.

2 He, once a victor bleeding,

Slew death, destroy'd the grave;
Now throned, yet interceding,
He lives, thy soul to save:
He comes, oh, day of wonder!
The graves are rent asunder!
3 But, oh, that vast transition!
How shall a creature dare
Gaze on the awful vision,

To find a Saviour there?
They whom he deigns to cherish
Shall never, never perish!

4 Their Saviour shall receive them,
From sin and death released;
He shall himself present them
Before the Father, dress'd
In robes of spotless whiteness,
All beauty, joy, and brightness,

PART III. 8.7. Walmgate, 51.

563
It is well. Isa. iii. 10. COLLYER.
1 YE mourners, cease to languish
O'er the grave of those ye love;
Pain, and death, and night, and anguish
Enter not the world above.

2 While in darkness ye are straying,
Lonely in the deep'ning shade,
Glory's brightest beams are playing
Round the immortal spirit's head.
3 Light and peace at once deriving
From the hand of God most high;
In his glorious presence living,
They shall never, never die.

OYE who with the silent tear,

And sadden'd steps assemble here, To bear these cold, these loved remains, Where dark and cheerless silence reigns,Your sorrows hush, your griefs dispel, The Saviour lives, and all is well. 2 That eye indeed is rayless now,

And pale that cheek, and chill that brow;

Yet, could the lifeless form declare
The joys its soul is call'd to share,
How would our souls rejoice to tell
The Saviour lives, and all is well!

1

G

Funeral of a mother. Isa. lxvi. 13.

COLLYER.

OD of the spirits of all flesh,

Behold thy servants here,
With bleeding hearts and streaming eyes
Surround a mother's bier.

2 [Bow'd by affliction to the earth,
Thou seest the husband stand;
And pressing to his knees in grief,
A little orphan band.]

3 But thou hast to thy people said-
And they have found it true,-
As when a mother comforteth,
So will I comfort you.'

4 Remember now thy promise, Lord,
Here let it be fulfill'd:

No word but thine, in such an hour,
Can consolation yield.

PART I. L. M. Ulverston, 179.

SCOTT

564 Satisfaction in God under the loss of dear friends. 1 THE God of love will sure indulge The flowing tear, the heaving sigh, When righteous persons fall around,When tender friends and kindred dic. 2 Yet not one anxious murmuring thought Should with our mourning passions blend; Nor would our bleeding hearts forget The almighty, ever-living Friend. 3 Beneath a numerous train of ills, Our feeble flesh and heart may fail; Yet shall our hope in thee, O God, O'er every gloomy fear prevail. 4 Parent and husband, guard and guide! Thou art each tender name in one: On thee we cast our every care, And comfort seek from thee alone. 5 Our Father God, to thee we look, Our rock, our portion, and our friend, And on thy covenant love and truth Our sinking souls shall still depend.

564 PART II. L.M. Hamburgh, 340.

For a bereaved family, on the death of a father. THOU who art the widow's God, A Father to the fatherless,