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“LORD JESUS, RECEIVE MY SPIRIT!”
SHRINKING from the cold hand of death,
I soon shall gather up my feet ; Shall soon resign my mortal breath,
And die, my fathers' God to meet.
Numbered among Thy people, I
Expect with joy Thy face to see : Because Thou didst for sinners die,
Jesus, in death remember me !
O that without a lingering groan
I may the welcome word receive; My body, with my charge, lay down,
And cease at once to work and live!
Walk with me through the dreadful shade,
And certify that Thou art mine ; My spirit, calm and undismayed,
I shall into Thy hands resign.
No anxious doubts, no guilty gloom,
Shall damp when Jesu's presence cheers ; My light, my life, my God is come,
And glory in his face appears !
In age and feebleness extreme,
Who shall a helpless worm redeem?
- Jesus, my only hope Thou art,
Strength of my failing flesh and heart !
Oh! could I catch a smile from Thee,
And drop into eternity!
“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.