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ORD Jesus Christ, true Man, true God,
Who hast alone the winepress trod,
And died at last upon the tree,
That man Thy Father’s face should see;
We pray Thee through that bitter woe,
To us Thy wondrous mercy show.
2. When comes the hour of failing breath,
And we must wrestle, Lord, with death,
When all our mind is darkened o'er,
And human help can do no more,
Then come, Lord Jesus, come with speed,
And help us in our hour of need.
3 Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt;
Help us to wait until Thou wilt
That we depart; and let our faith
Be brave and conquer even in death,
Firm resting on Thy sacred word,
Until we sleep in Thee, O Lord.
HRIST will gather in His own,
To the place where He is gone,
Where their heart and treasure lie,
Where our life is hid on high.
2 Day by day the Voice saith, “Come,
Enter thine eternal home; ”
Asking not if we can spare
This dear friend it summons there.
3 Had He asked us, well we know
We should cry, “O spare this blow !”
Yes, with streaming tears should pray,
“Lord, we love him, let him stay.”
4. But the Lord doth nought amiss;
And, since He hath ordered this,
We have nought to do but still
Rest in silence on His will.
5 Many a heart no longer here,
Ah! was all too inly dear:
Yet, O Love, ’tis Thou dost call,
Thou wilt be our All in all.
ARK River of Death, that art flowing
Between the bright city and me;
Thou boundest the path I am going—
O how shall I pass over thee
2. When the cold stormy waters rise o'er me,
And earth disappears from my sight;
When the cloud rises thickly before me,
And veils all my spirit in night;
3 O Death, thou last portion of sorrow,
The prospect of heaven is bright;
And fair is the dawn of the morrow—
But stormy and dreadful thy night!
4 O Thou who hast broken his power,
Death's Conqueror, Saviour of men!
Be with me in that solemn hour,
O grant me deliverance then
I 98 THOU Judge of quick and dead,
Before whose bar severe,
With holy joy or guilty dread,
We all shall soon appear;
Do Thou our souls prepare
For that tremendous day;
And fill us now with watchful care,
And stir us up to pray:
2 To pray and wait the hour,
That awful hour unknown,
When robed in majesty and power
Thou shalt from heaven come down,
The immortal Son of Man,
To judge the human race,
With all Thy Father's dazzling train,
With all Thy glorious grace.
3 To chasten earthly joys,
To quicken holy fears,
For ever let the archangel’s voice
Be sounding in our ears;
The solemn midnight cry—
Ye dead, the Judge is come !
Arise, and meet Him in the sky,
And hear your instant doom
4 O may we thus be found
Obedient to His word,
Attentive to the trumpet’s sound,
And looking for our Lord!
O may we thus ensure
A lot among the blest,
And watch a moment, to secure
An everlasting rest!
ARTH to earth, and dust to dust—
Lord, we own the sentence just:
Head, and tongue, and hand, and heart,
All in guilt have borne their part:
Righteous is the common doom,
All must slumber in the tomb.
2 Like the seed in spring-time sown,
Like the leaves in autumn strown,
Low these goodly frames must lie,
All our pomp and glory die:
Soon the spoiler seeks his prey,
Soon he bears us all away.
3 Yet the seed upraised again
Clothes with green the smiling plain;
Onward as the seasons move,
Leaves and blossoms deck the grove:
And shall we forgotten lie,
Lost for ever, when we die?
4 Lord, from nature’s gloomy night
Turn we to the Gospel’s light:
Thou didst triumph o'er the grave,
Thou wilt all Thy people save:
Ransomed by Thy blood, the just
Rise immortal from the dust.
YHEN we pass through yonder river,
When we reach the further shore;
There’s an end of war for ever—
We shall see our foes no more:
All our conflicts then shall cease,
Followed by eternal peace.
2. After warfare, rest is pleasant:
O how sweet the prospect is
Though we toil and strive at present,
Let us not repine at this:
Toil and pain and conflict past
All endear repose at last.
3 O that hope! how bright ! how glorious !
'Tis His people's blest reward:
In the Saviour's strength victorious
They at length behold their Lord:
In His kingdom they shall rest,
In His love be fully blest.
2 IS sweet to rest in lively hope
That, when my change shall come,
Angels will hover round my bed,
And waft my spirit home.
2 There shall my disimprisoned soul
Behold Him and adore;
Be with His likeness satisfied,
And grieve and sin no more: