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6. The Tyranny of Sin is paft,

And tho' the Carnal Mind remains,
My guiltless Soul on Thee is call;

I neither hug, nor bite my Chains,
Prisoner of Hope to Thee I turn,
And glefs the Day that I was born.
7. Preferv'd thro' Faith by Power Divine,

A Miracle of Grace I stand,
I prove the Strength of Jesus mine:

Jesus, upheld by Thy Right-Hand,
Tho' in my Flesh I feel the Thorn,
I bless the Day that I was born..

8. Weary of Life thro' inbred Sin

I was, but now defy its Power, When as a Flood the Foe comes in,

My Soul is more than Conqueror, I tread him down with holy Scorn, And bless the Day that I was born.

9. Born from above, I foon shall praise

Thy Goodness with a thankful Tongue, Record the Victory of Thy Grace,

And teach a liftening World the Song, While Many, whom to Thee I turn, Shall bless the Day that I was born. 10. Come, LORD, and make me Pure within,

O let me now be born of God,
Live to declare I CANNOT SIN!

Or, if I seal the Truth with Blood,
My Soul from out the Body torn,
Shall Bless the Day that I was born.


Job xix. 25.

Know that my Redeemer lives,

fand, And tho' to Worms my Flesh he gives,

My Duft lies number'd in His Hand.

2. In This Reanimated Clay

I surely shall behold Him near, Shall see Him at the Latter Day

In all His Majesty appear. 3. I feel what then shall raise me up,

Th' Eternal Spirit lives in me, This is my Confidence of Hope

That God I Face to Face shall fee.


Mine own and not Another's Eyes

The King shall in his Beauty view, I shall from Him receive the Prize

The Starry Crown to Victors due.

A Funeral Hymn. (Used fork for Mrs. El I'Z'A BETH HOOPER.) VOME, to the House of Mourning come,

The House of serious, folemn Joy, Let us, till all are taken home,

Our Lives in Songs of Praife employ.


2. Accomplish'd is our Sifter's Strife,

Her happier Soul is gone before, Her struggle for Eternal Life,

Her Glorious Agony is o'er.

3. The Captive Exile is releas'd,

Is with her LORD in Paradise, Of perfect Paradise poffeft,

And waiting for the Heavenly Prize :

4. In her no Spot of Sin remainid,

To shake her Confidence in Gop, The Victory here the more than gain'd,

Triumphant thro’ her Saviour's Blood.

5. She now the Fight of Faith hath fought,

Finish'd and won the Christian Race, She found on Earth the Lord she fought,

And now beholds Him Face to Face,

6. She died in sure and stedfast Hopez

By JESUS wholly fanctified, Her perfect Spirit she gave up,

And funk into His Arms, and died,


Thus may we All our Parting Breath

Inco the Saviour's Hands resign O Jesu ! let me die Her Death,

And let Her Latter End be Mine !


Raw near, ye Strangers to our God,

And taste with Us the Heavenly Powers, Otnat His Love were shed abroad ! O that


Hearts were all like Ours !


2. Come see, how Christians wail their Dead !

Come share in our mysterious Blits ; On Satan, Sin, and Death to tread,

O! what an Happiness is This!

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3. Though once Ye intermeddled not

With the strange Madness of our Joys, Ye All may be to Eden brought,

And heighten'our Triumphant Noise. 4. With Tears of Joy our Eyes o'reflow

At parting with our dearest Friend, From Us we gladly let her go

To Pleasures that shall never end.


We know in whom we have believ'd',

Our Faith in Jesus is not vain'; To All who have their Lord receiv'd

To live is CHRIST, to die is Gain. 6. Our Sifter's Flesh shall turn to Dust,

Her Sacred Daft in Hope shall sleep, The Temple of the Holy GHOST

The ftill-indwelling God shall keep. 7. Triumphantly she laid it down

For Time to waste, and Worms devourg In Weakness and Dishonour rown,

Till rais'd in Glory and in Power.

8. A Body natural it lies,

A lifeless Lump of mouldring Clay, But Spiritual it soon thall wife,

No more to perish or decay. g. This Corruptible Body soon

Shall all incorruptible be,
This Mortal quickly shall put or

Its Robes of Immortality.

10. The terrible, All-conquering King

Shall then a final Period have:
Say then, Death, where is thy Sting,

Where is thy Victory, O Grave?

11. The

11. The Sting of Death, our Sin is gone,

Scatter'd are all our guilty Fears ; Thanks be to God, thro' CHRIST alone,

Who makes us more than Conquerors. 12. God only doth the Vi&tory give,

He shall our Glorious Flesh restore, His many Sons to Heaven receive, Where Time and Death shall be no more.

:: ANOTHER Thell. iv. 13. &c. ET the World lament their Dead, LET

As forrowing without Hope, When a Friend of Ours is freed,

We chearfully look up, Cannot murmur or complain,

For our Dead we cannot grieve, Death to Them, to Us is Gain;

In Jesus We believe. 2. We believe, that CHRIST our Head

For Us refign'd His Breath, He was numbred with the Dead,

And dying conquer'd Death; Burft the Barriers of the Tomb:

Death could Him no longer keep, He is the First-fruits become

Of Those in Him that sleep.

3. God, who Him to Life restor'd,

Shall all His Members raise,
Bring them quickend with their LORD,

The Children of His Grace.
We who then on Earth remain,

Shall not sooner be brought home, All the Dead shall rise again

To meet the General Doom.

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