6. The Tyranny of Sin is paft, I neither hug, nor bite my Chains, Preferv'd thro' Faith by Power Divine, 8. Weary of Life thro' Inbred Sin My Soul is more than Conqueror, 9. Born from above, I foon fhall 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, Or, if I feal the Truth with Blood, Job 1. KNOW that Job xix. 25. lives, Now that my Redeemer the hall ftand, And tho' to Worms my Flesh he gives, 2. In This Reanimated Clay I furely shall behold Him near, 3. I feel what then shall raise me up, 4. Mine own and not Another's Eyes The King fhall in his Beauty view, I fhall from Him receive the Prize The Starry Crown to Victors due. 1. A Funeral HYMN. (Ufed firft for Mrs. ELIZABETH HOOPER.) OME, to the Houfe of Mourning come, Let us, till all are taken home, Our Lives in Songs of Praife employ. 2. Accomplish'd is our Sifter's Strife, 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 remain'd, 5. She now the Fight of Faith hath fought, 6. She died in fure and ftedfaft Hope, And funk into His Arms, and died. 7. Thus may we All our Parting Breath O JESU! let me die Her Death, "DR ANOTHER. RAW near, ye Strangers to our Goa, O that His Love were fhed abroad! O that your Hearts were all like Ours! 2. Come fee, how Chriftians wail their Dead! Come share in our myfterious Blits; On Satan, Sin, and Death to tread, 3. Though once Ye intermeddled not With the strange Madness of our Joys, Ye All may be to Eden brought, 4. And heighten our Triumphant Noise. With Tears of Joy our Eyes o'reflow At parting with our dearest Friend, From Us we gladly let her go To Pleafures that shall never end. 5. We know in whom we have believ'd, 6. Our Sifter's Flesh shall turn to Dust, 7. Triumphantly fhe laid it down For Time to wafte, and Worms devour 8. A Body natural it lies, A lifeless Lump of mouldring Clay, 9. This Corruptible Body foon 10. The terrible, All-conquering King Shall then a final Period have: II. 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 Victory give, He fhall our Glorious Flesh restore, His many Sons to Heaven receive, 1. 1 Where Time and Death fhall be no more. ET the World lament their Dead, When a Friend of Ours is freed, 2. We believe, that CHRIST our Head- 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 Firft-fruits become 3. GOD, who Him to Life reftor'd, We who then on Earth remain, Shall not fooner be brought home, All the Dead fhall rise again' To meet the General Doom. |