"O DEATH, WHERE IS THY STING ?"

DEATHLESS principle, arise!
Soar, thou native of the skies!
Pearl of price, by Jesus bought,
To His glorious likeness wrought!
Go to shine before His throne;
Deck His mediatorial crown;
Go, His triumph to adorn,—
Made for God, to God return.

Lo! He beckons from on high,-
Fearless to His presence fly :
Thine the merit of His blood;
Thine the righteousness of God!
Angels, joyful to attend,

Hovering, round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,

And escort thee quick to heaven.

Is thy earthly house distress'd,
Willing to retain her guest?
'Tis not thou, but she, must die.
Fly, celestial tenant, fly!

Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay;
Sweetly breathe thyself away:
Singing, to thy crown remove,
Swift of wing, and fired with love.

Shudder not to pass the stream;
Venture all thy care on Him;
Him, 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.

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.

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.

HAPPINESS! thou lovely name,

Where's thy seat? O tell me where !
Learning, pleasure, wealth and fame,

All cry out, It is not here.'
Not the wisdom of the wise,
Can inform me where it lies
Not the grandeur of the great
Can the bliss I seek create.

Object of my first desire,

Jesus! crucified for me,

All to happiness aspire,

Only to be found in Thee!
Thee to praise and Thee to know,

Constitute our bliss below;

Thee to see, and Thee to love,

Constitute our bliss above.

Lord! it is not life to live,

If Thy presence Thou deny. Lord! if Thou thy presence give, 'Tis no longer death to die. Source and Giver of repose, Singly from Thy smile it flows; Peace and happiness are Thine,

Mine they are, if Thou art mine.

Whilst I feel Thy love to me,

Every object teems with joy : Here, O may I walk with Thee, Then into Thy presence die! Let me but Thyself possess, Total sum of happiness!

Real bliss I then shall prove,

Heaven below, and heaven above.