316. c. M.

DODDRIDGE.

Earthly and heavenly treasures compared.

1.

THESE mortal joys, how soon they fade!
How swift they pass away!

The dying flower reclines its head,
The beauty of a day.

2.

Soon are those earthly treasures lost
We fondly call our own;

Scarce the possession can we boast,
When straight we find them gone.

3.

But there are joys which cannot die,
With God laid up in store,
Treasures beyond the changing sky,
Brighter than golden ore.

4.

The seeds which piety and love
Have scatter'd here below,

In the fair fertile fields above

To ample harvests grow.

317. C. M.

HEGINBOTHAM.

Comfort in sickness and death.

1.

WHEN sickness shakes the languid frame,
Each dazzling pleasure flies;
Phantoms of bliss no more obscure
Our long-deluded eyes.

2.

Then the tremendous arm of death
Its fatal sceptre shows,

And nature faints beneath the weight
Of complicated woes.

3.

The tottering frame of mortal life
Shall crumble into dust;

Nature shall faint: but learn, my soul,
On nature's God to trust.

4.

The man whose pious heart is fixt
On his all-gracious God,

From every frown may draw a
And kiss the chastening rod.

5.

joy,

Nor him shall death itself alarm;
On heaven his soul relies;
With joy he views his Maker's love,
And with composure dies.

318. C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

God our everlasting light.

[Isaiah lx. 20.]

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,

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

3.

Ye stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode,

The pavement of those heavenly courts
Where I shall reign with 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 mine eyes,
Nor the meridian sun decline
Amidst those brighter skies.
6.

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

And each the bliss of all shall view
With infinite delight.

319. c. M.

MRS. STEELE.

Hope in the death of friends.

1.

WHILE to the grave our friends are borne,

Around their cold remains

How all the tender passions mourn,
And each fond heart complains!

2.

But down to earth, alas! in vain
We bend our weeping eyes:
Ah! let us leave these seats of pain,
And upwards learn to rise.

3.

Hope cheerful smiles amid the gloom,
And beams a healing ray,

And guides us from the darksome tomb
To realms of endless day.

4.

To those bright courts when hope ascends,
The tears forget to flow;

Hope views our absent happy friends,
And calms the swelling woe.

5.

Then let our hearts repine no more,

That earthly comfort dies;

But future happiness explore,

And ask it from the skies.

320. C. M. WATTS.

[Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord. Rev. xiv. 3.]

1.

HEAR what the voice from heaven proclaims
For all the pious dead:

Sweet is the savour of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

2.

They die in Jesus, and are blest;
How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.

3.

Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labours of their mortal life
End in a large reward.

321. L. M.

A funeral hymn.

1.

WELL sleeps the good, who sinks to rest By each poor neighbour's wishes blest; For God shall mark the hallowed clay That wraps his mould till judgement-day.

2.

When the last trumpet rends the skies,
And the life-giver shouts "Arise!"
O'er him shall stir the heaving earth,
While angels watch his second birth.

3.

His form ascends array'd in light, Where seraphs harbinger his flight; Their greenest palms of triumph strow, And deck with golden crown his brow.

4.

To Jesus the deliverer dear,
His everlasting home is near,

Where pain and toil and trouble cease,
The mansion of delightful peace.