« AnteriorContinuar »
s Then leaving all I lov'd below,
To God's tribunal I must go;
And fix my everlasting state.
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Subdue my sin, and let me live.
If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear;
C. M. 700.
The Sting of Death is Sin.
Why deem we death a foe?'
And covet longer wo?
Her tale of guilt renews;
And dread of death ensues,
Man mourns his fleeting breath;
With the approach of death.
That prompts the wish to stay:
And must despair to pay. 5 Pay follow Christ, and all is paid;
His death your peace ensures; Think on the grave where he was laid, And calm descend to yours.
(472.) C. M. 701.
The voice of the tomb. | HARK! from the tombs a doleful sound
My ears attend the cry: “ Ye living men, come view the gro'ın
Where you must shortly lie. 2 “Princes, this clay must be
bed In spite of all your towers! The tall, the wise, the rev'rend head,
Must lie as low as ours.”
And are we still secure!
And yet prepare no more!
To fit our souls to fly:
(473.) C. M. 702.
The vanity of man as mortal. 1 TEACH me the measure of my days.
Thou Maker of my frame!
And learn how frail I am.
A fleeting hour of time:
In all his flow'r and prime.
Like shadows o'er the plain:
But all the noise is vain.
Some dig for golden ore;
5 Wat whould I wish or wait for then,
From creatures, earth and dust? They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.
My fond desires recall;
And make my God my all.
(474.). C. M.
Death at hand. 1 THEE we adore, eternal Name!
And humbly own to thee, How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we. & Our wasting lives are short’ning still,
As months and days increase; And ev'ry beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less. 3 Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
To push us to the tomb;
To hurry mortals home.
Jlang everlasting things!
Upon life's feeble strings.
Depends on ev'ry breath,
Upon the brink of death.
To walk this dang’rous road;
704. (475.) L. M.
Swift on the wings of time it flies
Will vanish from my closing eyes. 2 Death calls my friends, my neighbours hence
And none resist the fatal dart:
And shall they fail to strike my heart? 3 Think, O my soul! how much depends
On the short period of to-day:
Be negligently thrown away?
Awake, rouse ev'ry active pow'r;
This little, this important hour! 5 Lord of my life, inspire my heart
With heav'nly ardour, grace divine;
For strength, and life, and death are thine 6 O teach me the celestial skill,
Each awful warning to improve:
Prepare me for the joys above! 705.
(478.). L. M.
Numbering our days. I GOD of eternity! from thee
Did infant time his being draw; Moments and days, and months and years,
Revolve, by thy unvaried law. 2 Silent and slow they glide away;
Steady and strong the current flows;
$ 'Thoughtless and vain, our mortal race
Along the mighty stream are borne
That country whence there's no return. 4 Yet while the shore on either side
Presents a gaudy, flatt'ring show,
Nor think to what a world we go.
To know the price of ev'ry hour;
Beyond its measure and its pow't. 706.
(481.). L. M.
Man fading and reviving.
And gay their silken leaves unfold,
And fearless of the ev'ning cold. 2 Nipt by the wind's untimely blast,
Parch'd by the sun's directer ray, The momentary glories waste,
The short-liv'd beauties die away. 3 So blooms the human face divine,
When youth its pride and beauty shows; Fairer than spring the colours shine
And sweeter than the virgin rose. A Or worn by slowly rolling years,
Or broke by siekness in a day, The fading glory disappears,
The short-liv'd beauties die away. 5 Yet these, new-rising from the tomb,
With lustre brighter far shall shine; Revive with ever-during bloom,
Safe from diseases and decline. 6 Let sickness blast and death devour, If heav'n must recompense our pains;