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o 50 let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose powerful arm can save;

Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.

-6 Great God, thy sovereign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;

This only can prepare the heart
For death's surprising hour.

HYMN 228.

C. M.


Zion. [*]

Death of Pious Friends. 1 Thess. iv, 13, 14.
AKE comfort, christians, when your friends

1Tm Jesus fall asleep;


Their better being never ends;
Then why dejected weep?
2 Why inconsolable, as those
To whom no hope is given?
Death is the messenger of peace,
And calls the soul to heav'n.
3 As Jesus died, and rose again,
Victorious from the dead;

o So his disciples rise and reign,
With their triumphant head.

e 4 The time draws nigh, when from the clouds Christ shall with shouts descend;

g And the last trumpet's awful voice

The heavens and earth shall rend. -5 Then they who live shall changed be, And they who sleep shall wake;

o The graves, shall yield their ancient charge;
And earth's foundation shake.

o 6 The saints of God, from death set free,
With joy shall mount on high;
-The heavenly hosts, with praises loud,
Shall meet them in the sky.

7 A few short years of evil past,

We reach the happy shore;

o Where death-divided friends, at last,

Shall meet to part no more.


HYMN 229. C. M. St. Paul's. [b*]
The Christian's Farewell.

1 YE golden lamps of heaven, farewell,

With all your feeble light;

Farewell, thou ever-changing moon,
Pale empress of the night.

2 And thou, refulgent orb of day, In brighter flames array'd;

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My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere
No more demands thy aid.

3 Ye stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode;

The pavement of those heavenly courts,
Where I shall see my God.

• 4 The Father of eternal light

Shall there his beams display;

Nor shall one moment's darkness mix,
With that unvaried day.

5 No more the drops of piercing grief,
Shall swell into my eyes;

Nor the meridian sun decline,
Amidst those brighter skies.

g6 There all the millions of his saints
Shall in one song unite;

And each the bliss of all shall view,

With infinite delight.


HYMN 230. 8s. Consolation. [*]

Death Gain to a Believer.

1 HOW blest is our friend-now bereft

Of all that could burden his mind!

How easy his soul-that has left

This wearisome body behind?
Of evil incapable thou,
Whose relics with envy I see;
No longer in misery now-
No longer a sinner like me.

2 This earth is affected no more
With sickness, or shaken with pain;
The war with the members is o'er,
And never shall vex him again.
No anger henceforward, nor shame,
Shall redden his innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,
And passion is vanish'd away.
3 This languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immoveable breast,
Is heav'd by affliction no more.

This heart is no longer the seat
Of trouble and torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat-
It never shall flutter again.

4 The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Sealed up in eternal repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep.
The fountains can yield no supplies,
These hollows from water are free;
The tears are all wip'd from these eyes,
And evil they never shall see.

5 To mourn and to suffer is mine,
While bound in a prison I breathe;
And still for deliverance pine,
And press to the issues of death.
What now with my tears I bedew,
Oh, shall I not ere long become,
My spirit created anew-
My body consign'd to the tomb!



HYMN 231. L. M. Sicilian. [b*]


A Funeral Hymn.

NVEIL thy bosom, faithful tomb,
Take this new treasure to thy trust;
And give these sacred relics room,
To seek a slumber in the dust.

2 Nor pair, nor grief, nor anxious fear
Invade thy bounds. No mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
While angels watch the soft repose.
e. 3 So Jesus slept ;-God's dying Son
Pass'd through the grave, and blest the bed;
Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
o 4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn;
Attend, O earth! his sov'reign word;
o Restore thy trust-a glorious form-
Call'd to ascend and meet the Lord.



HYMN 232. C. M. Sunday. [*]
The Resurrection. 1 Cor. xv, 52-58.
THEN the last trumpet's awful voice

W This rending earth shall shake

When op'ning graves shall yield their charge,
And dust to life awake;-

o 2 Those bodies, that corrupted fell,
Shall incorrupted rise;

And mortal forms shall spring to life,
Immortal in the skies.

-3 Behold, what heav'nly prophets sung,
Is now at last fulfill'd

That death should yield his ancient reign,
And, vanquish'd quit the field.

o 4 Let faith exalt her joyful voice,
And thus begin to sing;

d "Oh grave! where is thy triumph now? And where, O Death! thy sting!

5 "Thy sting was sin, and conscious guilt;
'Twas this that arm'd thy dart;

The law gave sin its strength, and force,
To pierce the sinner's heart.

6 "But God, whose name be ever blest!
Disarms that foe we dread;

And makes us conqu'rors, when we die,
Through Christ our living head.".

-7 (Then steadfast let us still remain,
Though dangers rise around;
And in the work prescrib'd by God,
Yet more and more abound.

o 8 Assur'd, that though we labour now,
We labour not in vain ;

But through the grace of heav'ns great Lord,
The eternal crown shall gain.) SCOTCH PAR,

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HYMN 233. C. M. Arundel. [*]


The Last Tempest.

THEN wild confusion wrecks the air,
And tempests rend the skies;

Whilst blended ruin, clouds and fire

In harsh disorder rise ;

o 2 Safe in my Saviour's love I'll stand, And strike a tuneful song;

e My harp all trembling in my hand, And all inspir'd my tongue.

d 3 I'll shout aloud, "Ye thunders roll, "And shake the sullen sky;

"Your sounding voice, from pole to pole,
"In angry murmurs try.

4"Let the earth totter on her base,
"And clouds the heavens deform;
"Blow, all ye winds, from every place,
"Aud rush the final storm!"

-5 Come quickly, blessed HOPE, appear—
Bid thy swift chariot fly;

Let angels tell thy coming near,

And snatch me to the sky.

o 6 Around thy wheels, in the glad throng,

I'd bear a joyful part;

g All hallelujah on my tongue

All rapture in my heart.


HYMN 234. 8, 7, & 4. Littleton. [*]
Christ coming to Judgment.

1 O, he comes-the King of glory!
With his chosen tribes to reign;

Countless hosts of saints and angels
Swell the mighty conqueror's train;
Now in triumph,

Sin and death are captive led.

g 2 See the rocks and mountains rending


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All the nations fill'd with dread!
Hark! the trump of God-proclaiming
Through the mansions of the dead-
Come to judgment-

Stand before the Son of Man!"

Now behold the dead awaking;

Great and small before him stand;

Not one soul forgot, or missing;

None his orders countermand:

All stand waiting

For their last decisive doom!

4 Hear the Chief among ten thousand
Thus address his faithful few;

d "Come ye blessed of my Father,
"Heaven is prepared for you;

"I was hungry-I was thirsty-I was naked"And ye minister'd to me."

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