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Perish the grass, and fade the flow'r,
If firm the word of God remains.

707.

(488.) C. M. Victory over death.

1 WHEN death appears before my sight,

In all his dire array;

Unequal to the dreadful fight,
My courage dies away.

? How shall I meet this potent foe
Whose frown my soul alarms?
Dark horror sits upon his brow;
And vict'ry waits his arms.

3 But see my glorious Leader nigh!
Jesus, my Saviour, lives:

Before him death's pale terrors fly,
And my faint heart revives.

O may I meet the final hour
With fortitude divine!

Sustain❜d by his almighty pow'r,
The conquest must be mine.

5 Lord! I commit my soul to thee:
Accept the sacred trust;
Receive this nobler part of me,
And watch my sleeping dust.

O let me join angelic lays,
And, with the blissful throng,
Resound salvation, pow'r, and praise,
In everlasting song!

708.

1

L. M.

Christ's Presence makes Death easy
WHY should we start and fear to die?

What timorous worms we mortals are!
Death is the gate of endless joy,
And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,
Fright our approaching souls away:

Still we shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 O, if my Lord would come and meet,
My soul should stretch her wings in haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she past.

4 Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on his breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.

709.

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2

S. M.

Triumph over Death in Hope of the
Resurrection.

ND must this body die
This mortal frame decay?

And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mouldering in the clay?

Corruption, earth, and worms,
Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes
To put it on afresh.

3 God, my Redeemer, lives,
And often, from the skies,
Looks down and watches all my dust,
Till he shall bid it rise.

5

6

Array'd in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape, and every face,
Look heavenly and divine.

These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus' dying love;

We would adore his grace below,
And sing his power above.

Dear Lord, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs,

Till tunes of nobler sounds we raise
With our immortal tongues.

710.

1

2. DEATH OF FRIENDS AND RELATIVES.

MUS

(444.) C. M.

UST friends and kindred droop and die,
And helpers be withdrawn;

While sorrow, with a weeping eye,
Counts up our comforts gone?

2 Be thou our comfort, mighty God!
Our helper and cur friend;

Nor leave us in this dang'rous road,
Till all our trials end.

3 O may our feet pursue the way
Our pious fathers led;
While love and holy zeal obey
The counsels of the dead

4 Let us be wean'd from earthly joys;
Let hope our grief dispel:
The dead in Jesus shall arise
In endless bliss to dwell,

(448.) L. M.

711 On the death of a parent.
THOUGH nature's voice you must obey,
Think, while your swelling griefs o'erflow,
That hand, which takes your joys away,
That sov'reign hand can heal your wo.

2 And, while your mournful thoughts deplore
The parent gone, remov'd the friend!
With hearts resign'd, his grace adore,
On whom your nobler hopes depend.

3 Does he not bid his children come

Thro' death's dark shades to realms of light!
Yet, when he calls them to their home
Shall fond survivors mourn their flight?

His word—here let your souls rely
Immortal consolation gives:

Your heav'nly Father cannot die,
Th' eternal Friend for ever lives.

5 O be that best of friends your trust;
On his almighty arm recline;
He, when your comforts sink in dust;
Can give you comforts more divine.

712.

1

W

(487.) C. M.

HILE to the grave our friends are borne,
Around their cold remains

How all the tender passions mourn,
And each fond heart complains!

2 But down to earth, alas! in vain
We bend our weeping eyes,
Ah! let us leave these seats of pain,
And upwards learn to rise.

3 Hope cheerful smiles amid the gloom,
And beams a healing ray;

And guides us from the darksome tomb,
To realms of endless day.

4 To those bright courts when hope ascends, She calms the swelling wo;

In hope we meet our happy friends,
And tears forget to flow.

5 Then let our hearts repine no more,
That earthly comfort dies;
But lasting happiness explore,
And ask it from the skies.

3. DEATH OF THE YOUNG.

C. M.

713. Children dying in their Infancy in the
arms of Jesus. Matt. xix. 14.
1 THY life I read, my dearest Lord!
With transport all divine;

Thy image trace in every word,-
Thy love in every line.

2 Methinks I see a thousand charme
Spread o'er thy lovely face,
While infants in thy tender arms
Receive the smiling grace.

3 'I take these little lambs,' said he,
And lay them in my breast;
Protection they shall find in me,——
In me be ever blest.

4 Death may the bands of life unloose,
But can't dissolve my love;

Millions of infant souls compose
The family above,

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5 Their feeble frames my power shall raise, And mould with heavenly skill:

I'll give them tongues to sing my praise,
And hands to do my will.'

6 His words the happy parents hear,
And shout, with joys divine,

Dear Saviour, all we have and are
Shall be for ever thine.

714.

(446.) C. M.

On the death of a child.

LIFE is a span, a fleeting hour;
How soon the vapour flies!

Man is a tender, transient flow'r,
That e'en in blooming dies.

The once lov'd form, now cold and dead,
Each mournful thought employs;
And nature weeps her comforts fled,
And wither'd all her joys.

3 But wait the interposing gloom,

And lo! stern winter flies;

And, drest in beauty's fairest blooin,
The flow'ry tribes arise.

4 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time, When what we now deplore

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