Such peace on virtue's paths attends,
That, where the sinner's pleasure ends,
The Christian's joys begin.
2 See smiling patience smooth his brow!
See bending angels downward bow,
To cheer his way on high!
While, eager for the blest abode,
He joins with them to praise the God
Who taught him how to die.
3 No sorrow drowns his lifted eyes;
No horror wrests the struggling sighs,
As from the sinner's breast;
His God, the God of peace and love,
Pours kindly solace from above,
And soothes his soul to rest.
4 O, grant, my Father and my Friend,
Such joys may gild my peaceful end, —
So calm my evening close;
While, loosed from every earthly tie,
With steady confidence I fly
To thee from whom I rose.
1 UNVEIL thy bosom, faithful tomb;
Take this new treasure to thy trust,
And give these sacred relics room,
To slumber in the silent dust.
2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,
Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
While angels watch the soft repose.
3 So Jesus slept; God's dying Son
Passed through the grave, and blest the bed;
Rest, then, dear saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn!
Attend, O earth, his sovereign word;
Restore thy trust; a glorious form
Shall then arise to meet the Lord.
8 & 7s. M.
Burial of a Christian.
1 BROTHER, rest from sin and sorrow;
Death is o'er and life is won;
On thy slumber dawns no morrow;
Rest; thine earthly race is run.
2 Brother, wake; the night is waning;
Endless day is round thee poured;
Enter thou the rest remaining
For the people of the Lord.
3 Brother, wake; for he who loved thee,
He who died that thou mightst live,
He who graciously approved thee,
Waits thy crown of joy to give.
4 Fare thee well; though woe is blending
With the tones of earthly love,
Triumph high and joy unending
Wait thee in the realms above.
1 WHY do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death's alarms ?
'T is but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to his arms.
2 Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb ?
'T was there the Saviour's body lay,
And left a long perfume.
3 The graves of all his saints he blest,
And softened every bed :
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head?
1 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 would stretch her wings in haste,
Fly, fearless, through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she passed.
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.
1 WHY weep for those, frail child of woe, Who 've fled and left thee mourning here! Triumphant o'er their latest foe,
They glory in a brighter sphere.
Perhaps they watch with guardian care,
And witness tears that idly flow
O'er those who bliss of angels share.
3 Or round their Father's throne above,
With raptured voice, his praise they sing,
Or on his messages of love
They journey with unwearied wing.
4 Space cannot check, thought cannot bound,
The high exulting souls, whom He,
Who formed these million worlds around,
Takes to his own eternity.
5 Weep, weep no more; their voices raise
The song of triumph high to God,
And, wouldst thou join their song of praise,
Walk humbly in the path they trod.
Blessedness of the Righteous in Death.
1 HOW blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a weary soul to rest!
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves th' expiring breast!
2 So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.
3 A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
And naught disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,
Where lights and shades alternate dwell;
How bright th' unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!
5 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies,
While heaven and earth combine to say,
"How blest the righteous when he dies!"
Blessed are they that mourn.
1 DEEM not that they are blest alone,
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God, who loves our race, has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.
3 O, there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.
4 And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier,
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere,
Will give him to thy arms again.
5 Nor let the good man's trust depart,
Though life its common gifts deny ;
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
And spurned of men, he goes to die.
6 For God hath marked each anguished day,
And numbered every secret tear ;
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.
God the Refuge of the Afflicted..
1 AFFLICTION is a stormy deep,
Where wave resounds to wave;
Though o'er our heads the billows roll,
We know the Lord can save.
2 When darkness and when sorrows rose,
And pressed on every side,
The Lord hath still sustained our steps,
And still hath been our Guide.
3 Perhaps, before the morning dawn,
He will restore our peace;
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