The woods shall hear the voice of spring,
And flourish green again.
4 So, to the dreary grave consigned,
Man sleeps in death's dark gloom,
Until th' eternal morning wake
The slumbers of the tomb.
5 O, may the grave become to us
The bed of peaceful rest ;
Whence we shall gladly rise at length,
And mingle with the blest.
6 Cheered by this hope, with patient mind
We'll wait Heaven's high decree ;
Till the appointed period come
When death shall set us free.
The Ducelling-place of God.
1 THERE is a region lovelier far
Than sages tell or poets sing,
Brighter than noonday glories are,
And softer than the tints of spring.
2 It is not fanned by summer's gale;
'T is not refreshed by vernal showers ;
It never needs the moonbeam pale,
For there are known no evening hours.
3 No; for that world is ever bright
With purest radiance all its own :
The streams of uncreated light
Flow round it from th' eternal throne.
4 It is all holy and serene,
The land of glory and repose;
No cloud obscures the radiant scene
There not a tear of sorrow flows.
5 In vain the curious, searching eye
May seek to view the fair abode,
Or find it in the starry sky:
It is the dwelling-place of God.
The Peace and Repose of Heaven.
1 THERE is an hour of hallowed peace
For those with cares oppressed,
When sighs and sorrowing tears shall cease,
And all be hushed to rest.
2 'T is then the soul is freed from fears
And doubts which here annoy ;
Then they that oft had sown in tears
Shall reap again in joy.
3 There is a home of sweet repose,
Where storms assail no more ;
The stream of endless pleasure flows
On that celestial shore.
4 There purity with love appears,
And bliss without alloy;
There they that oft had sown in tears
Shall reap again in joy.
L. P. M.
Source of Consolation.
1 I'LL praise my Maker with my breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.
2 How blest the man whose hopes rely
On Israel's God! He made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train ;
His truth for ever stands secure ;
He saves th' oppressed, he feeds the poor,
And none shall find his promise vain.
3 I'll praise him while he lends me breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.
1 THERE is a land mine eye hath seen,
In visions of enraptured thought,
So bright that all which spreads between
Is with its radiant glory fraught; —
2 A land upon whose blissful shore
There rests no shadow, falls no stain ;
There those who meet shall part no more,
And those long parted meet again.
3 Its skies are not like earthly skies,
With varying hues of shade and light;
It hath no need of suns to rise,
To dissipate the gloom of night.
4 There sweeps no desolating wind
Across that calm, serene abode ;
The wanderer there a home may find,
Within the paradise of God.
8 & 6s. M.
Heaven anticipated.
1 THERE is an hour of peaceful rest
To mourning wanderers given;
There is a joy for souls distressed,
A balm for every wounded breast;
'T is found alone in heaven.
2 There is a home for weary souls,
By sins and sorrows driven,
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,
't is heaven.
3 There faith lifts the tearless eye, -
The heart no longer riven, -
And views the tempest passing by,
Sees evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in heaven.
4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given;
There rays divine disperse the gloom;
Beyond the dark and narrow tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven.
The Death of a Believer.
1 IN vain our fancy strives to paint
The moment after death,
The glories that surround the saints,
When yielding up their breath.
2 One gentle sigh their fetters breaks!
We scarce can say, They 're gone!"
Before the willing spirit takes
Her mansion near the throne.
3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail
To trace her in its flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides that world of light.
4 Thus much, and this is all we know,
They are completely blest ;
Have done with sin, and care,
And with their Saviour rest.
Life, Death, and Resurrection.
1 ETERNAL God! how frail is man!
Few are the hours, and short the span,
Between the cradle and the grave:
Who can prolong his vital breath?
Who from the bold demands of death
Hath skill to fly, or power to save ?
2 But let no murmuring heart complain,
That, therefore, man is made in vain,
Nor the Creator's grace distrust;
For though his servants, day by day,
Go to their graves, and turn to clay,
A bright reward awaits the just.
3 Jesus hath made thy purpose known,
A new and better life hath shown,
And we the glorious tidings hear:
For ever blesséd be the Lord,
That we can read his holy word,
And find a resurrection there.
1 THE God of mercy will indulge The flowing tear, the heaving sigh, When honored parents fall around,
When friends beloved and kindred die. 2 Yet not one anxious, murmuring thought Should with our mourning passions blend; Nor should our bleeding hearts forget Their mighty, ever-living Friend.
3 Parent, Protector, Guardian, Guide,
Thou art each tender name in one;
On thee we cast our every care,
And comfort seek from thee alone.
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