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Death of a pious Widow.
HYMN 141. 2-6's & 4-7's.
Death of a youthful Believer.
AGAIN we lift our voice,

And shout our solemn joys;
Cause of highest raptures this,
Raptures that shall never fail :
See, a soul escaped to bliss ;
Keep the Christian festival.

And shall we mourn to see

Our fellow-prisoner free?
Free from doubts, and griefs, and fears,
In the haven of the skies?
Can we weep to see the tears
Wiped for ever from his eyes?

No, dear companion, no!

We gladly let thee go,
From a suffering church beneath,
To a reigning church above:
Thou hast more than conquer'd death,
Thou art crown'd with life and love.

Thou, in thy youthful prime,

Hast leap'd the bounds of time:
Suddenly from earth released :
Lol we now rejoice for thee,
Taken to an early rest,
Caught into eternity,

Thither may we repair,

That glorious bliss to share:
We shall see the welcome day;
We shall to the summons bow:

e wecome aayi
Come, Redeemer, come away:
Now prepare, and take us now.

c. WESLEY. HYMN 142. 8-8's.

Death of a pious Widow).
Give glory to Jesus our Head,

With all that encompass his throne:
A widow, a widow indeed,

A mother in Israel is gone!


Death of a Minister.

The winter of trouble is past;

The storms of affliction are o'er;
Her struggle is ended at last,

And sorrow and death are no more. 2 The soul has o'ertaken her mate,

And caught him again in the sky;
Advanced to her happy estate,

And pleasure that never shall die :
Where glorified spirits, by sight,

Converse in their holy abode;
As stars in the firmament bright,

And pure as the angels of God, 3 Behold i what a triumph is there,

Where all in his praises agree;
His beautiful character bear,

And shine with the glory they see :
The glory of God and the Lamb

(While all in the ecstasy join),
Darts into their spiritual frame,

And gives the enjoyment divine. 4 In loud hallelujahs they sing,

And harmony echoes his praise;
When lo! the celestial King

Pours out the full light of his face:
The joy neither angel nor saint

Can bear, so ineffably great ;
But lo! the whole company faint,
And heaven is found at his feet.

HYMN 143. C.M.

Death of a Minister. Now let our mourning hearts revive,

And all our tears be dry; Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief

Which view a Saviour nigh? 2 What though the arm of conq'ring death,

Does God's own house invade?
What though the prophet and the priest

Be number'd with the dead?

The Dying Sinner and the Dying Saint.

3 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust,

The aged and the young ;
The watchful eye in darkness closed,

And mute the instructive tongue : 4 The eternal Shepherd still survives,

New comfort to impart :
His eye still guides us, and his voice

Still animates our heart.
6 “Lo, I am with you!” saith the Lord :

“My church shall safe abide; For I will ne'er forsake my own,

Whose souls in me confide." 6 Through every scene of life and death,

This promise is our trust; And this shall be our children's song, When we are cold in dust. DODDRIDGE.

HYMN 144. L.M. The Dying Sinner and the Dying Saint. What scenes of horror and of dread Await the sinner's dying bed! Death's terrors all appear in sight,

Presages of eternal night.
2 His sins in dreadful order rise,

And fill his soul with sad surprise ;
Mount Sinai's thunders stun his ears,

And not one ray of hope appears.
8 Tormenting pangs distract his breast :
Where'er he turns, he finds no rest :
Death strikes the blow; he groans and dies,

And in despair and horror flies.
4 Not so the heir of heavenly bliss;

His soul is fill'd with conscious peace;
A steady faith subdues his fear;

He sees the happy Canaan near. 6 His mind is tranquil and serene;

No terrors in his looks are seen;
His Saviour's smile dispels the gloom,
And soothes his passage to the tomb.

Resurrection of the Saints,

6 Lord, make thy faith and love sincere ;

My judgment sound, my conscience clear;
And when the toils of life are past,
May I be found in peace at last.



HYMN 145. C.M.

Resurrection of the Saints.
How long shall death, the tyrant, reign,

And triumph o'er the just?
While the rich blood of martyrs slain

Lies mingled with the dust.
2 Lo! I behold the scatter'd shades !

The dawn of heaven appears;
The sweet immortal morning spreads

Its blushes round the spheres. 3 I see the Lord of glory come,

And flaming guards around;
The skies divide to make him room;

The trumpet shakes the ground.
4 I hear the voice, “Ye dead, arise!”

And lo! the graves obey;
And waking saints, with joyful eyes,

Salute the expected day.
5 They leave the dust, and on the wing

Rise to the midway air;
In shining garments meet their King,

And low adore him there.
6. O may our humble spirits stand

Among them, clothed in white !
The meanest place at his right hand

Is infinite delight.

The Judgment.

7 How will our joy and wonder rise,

When our returning King
Shall bear us homeward through the skies
On love's triumphant wing. WATTS.

HYMN 146. C.M.

Resurrection anticipated.
GREAT God l I own thy sentence just,

And nature must decay:
I yield my body to the dust,

To dwell with fellow clay.
2 Yet faith may triumph o'er the grave,

And trample on the tombs : My Jesus, my Redeemer lives;

My God, my Saviour comés i
3 The mighty Conqueror shall appear,

High on a royal seat:
And death, the last of all his foes,

Lie vanquish'd at his feet.
4 Though greedy worms devour my skin,

And gnaw my wasting flesh;
When God shall build my bones again,

He'll clothe them all afresh. 5 Then shall I see thy lovely face

With strong immortal eyes,
And feast upon thy unknown grace

With pleasure and surprise. WATTS.


HYMN 147 S.M.

The Judgment.
AND will the Judge descend ?

And must the dead arise ?
And not a single soul escape

His all-discerning eyes ?

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