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539

C. M.

ANONYMOUS.
The Happy Death.
: Lord, must we die ? O let us die

Trusting in thee alone!
Our living testimony given,

Then leave our dying one
2 If we must die, O let us die

In peace with all mankind,
And change these fleeting joys below

For pleasures all refined.
3 If we must die, -as die we must, --

Let some kind seraph come,
And bear us on his friendly wing

To our celestial home!
4 Of Canaan's land, from Pisgah's top,

May we but have a view !
Though Jordan should o’erflow its banks,
We'll boldly venture through.

540.

L. M.

MONTGOMERY
The Hour of Death, and Entrance on Immortality.
1 O God unseen--but not unknown!

Thine eye is ever fixed on me;
I dwell beneath thy secret throne,

Encompassed by thy deity.
2 The moment comes when strength must fail,

When, health and hope and comfort flown I must go down into the vale

And shade of death, with thee alone :
3 Alone with thee ;- in that dread strifo

Uphold me through mine agony,
And gently be this dying life
Exchanged for immortality.

4 Then, when th' unbodied spirit lands

Where flesh and blood have never trod,
And in the unveiled presence stands

Of thee, my Saviour and my God : 5 Be mine eternal portion this,

Since thou wert always here with me,
That I may view thy face in bliss,

And be for evermore with thee. 541.

L. M.

DODDRIDAE
Meditation on Death.
1 BEKÕLD the path which mortals tread,

Down to the regions of the dead !
Nor will the fleeting moments stay,

Nor can we measure back our day.
2 Our kindred and our friends are gone;

Know, O my soul! this doom my own;
Feeble as theirs my mortal frame,

The same my way, my home the same.
3 Awake, my soul, thy way prepare,

And lose in this each mortal care;
With steady feet that path be trod,

Which, through the grave, conducts to Goa. 4 Father! to thee my all I trust;

And if thou call me down to dust,
I know thy voice, I bless thy hand,

And die in peace at thy command. 542.

75. M.
The Dying Christian to his Soul !
1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame!

Quit, О quit this mortal frame !
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

Pors

2 Hark! they whisper! angels say

“ Sister spirit, come away !”.
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ?

Tell me, my soul, can this be death ?
3 The world recedes !- it disappears.

Heaven opens on my eyes !- my ears
With sounds seraphic ring :
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount, I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory ?
O death! where is thy sting ?

43.

L. M.

Mrs. BA BAULD. Death of the Righteous. . . 1 Sweet is the scene when virtue dies !

When sinks a righteous soul to rest;
How mildly beam the closing eyes,

How gently heaves th' expiring breast ! 2 So fades a summer cloud away,

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,

So dies a wave along the shore.
3 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,

Where lights and shades alternate dwell • How bright th' unchanging morn appears.

Farewell, inconstant world, farewell 4 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay,

Light from its load the spirit flies; While heaven and earth combine to say, “ How blessed the righteous when he dies!

357

C. M.

PEABODY.
The Christian's Death.
1 BEHOLD the western evening light!

It melts in deeper gloom;
So calm the righteous sink away

Descending to the tomb.
The winds breathe low — the yellow leaf

Scarce whispers from the tree !
So gently flows the parting breath

When good men cease to be.
2 How beautiful, on all the hills,

The crimson light is shed!
'T is like the peace the dying gives

To mourners round his bed.
How mildly on the wandering cloud

The sunset beam is cast!
So sweet the memory left behind,

When loved ones breathe their last.
3 And lo! above the dews of night

The vesper star appears!
So faith lights up the mourner's heart,

Whose eyes are dim with tears.
Night falls, but soon the morning light

Its glories shall restore;
And thus the eyes that sleep in death

Shall wake, to close no more.

845

78. M.

ANONYLOVE
Dirge.
I Clay to clay, and dust to dust!

Let them mingle — for they must
Give to earth the earthly clod,
For the spirit's fled to God.

2 Never more shall midnight's damp

Darken round this mortal lamp;
Never more shall noon-day's glance
Search this mortal countenance.

3 Deep the pit, and cold the bed,

Where the spoils of death are laid;
Stiff the curtains, chill the gloom,

Of man's melancholy tomb.
4 Look aloft! The spirit 's risen-

Death cannot the soul imprison;
'Tis in heaven that spirits dwell,
Glorious, though invisible.

546.

L. M.

Warts The Same. 1 UNVELL thy bosom, faithful tomb !

Take this new treasure to thy trust, And give these sacred relics room

To seek a slumber in thy dust. 2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,

Inva le thy bounds; no mortal woes Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,

While angels watch the soft repose. 3 So Jesus slept; God's dying Son

Passed through the grave, and blessed the bed Then rest, dear saint, till from his throne

The morning break, and pierce the shade. 4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn!

Attend, 0 earth, his sovereign word ! Restore thy trust! the glorious form Shall then arise to meet the Lord.

359

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