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C. M.
The soul's rapturous entrance into glory.
Luke xxiii, 43. 1 Cor. ii, 9. Rev. xiv, 18.
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 her 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 care, and sin, and woe,

And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise his Name,

His face they always view;
Then let us follow'rs be of them,

That we may praise Him too.


L. M.
I sam. 111, 18. Job 1, 20, 21 ; xili, 15.
1 WAIT, O my soul! thy Maker's will;

Tumultuous passions all be still;
Nor let a murm'ring thought arise;

His ways are just, his counsels wise. 2 He in the thickest darkness dwells,

Performs his work, the cause conceals;
But, though his counsels are unknown,

Judgment and truth support his throne.
3 In heaven, and earth, and air, and seas,

He executes his firm decrees;
And, by his saints it stands confess'd,

That what He does is ever best.
4 Wait then, my soul, submissive wait,

Prostrate before his awful seat;
Beneath the terrors of his rod,

Trust in a wise and gracious God. 382

A warning from the tomb.

Ps. xc, 12. Matt. xxiv, 42-44.
1 WHEN youth or age is snatch'd away

By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tributo pay,

Affection must demand.

2 While sorrow prompts the rising sigh,

With awful power impress'd,
May this dread truth, I too must die-

Sink deep in every breast.
3 Let this vain world allure no more;

Behold the opening tomb!
It bids us use the present hour:

To-morrow death may come.
4 The voice of this awak’ning scene

May every heart obey;
Nor be the faithful warning vain,

Which calls to watch and pray. 5 Oh! let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose arm alone can save:
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,

And triumph o'er the grave.


6-8's. Christ our hope in death. Job xix, 26-27. Acts vii, 55-60. 1 Cor. xv, 55. 1 LET reason vainly boast her pow'r

To teach her children how to die;
The sinner in his closing hour
Needs more than reason can supply:
A view of Christ, the sinner's Friend,
* lone can cheer him in his end.

2 When nature sinks beneath disease,

And every earthly hope is fled,
What then can give the sinner ease,
And make him love a dying bed?
Jesus! thy smile his heart can cheer;

He's blest e'en then, if Thou art near.
3 The gospel does salvation bring,

And Jesus is the gospel theme:
In death redeemed sinners sing,
And triumph in the Saviour's name:
O death, where is thy sting?-they cry-

O grave, where is thy victory?
4 Then let me die the death of those,

Whom Jesus washes in his blood,
Who on his faithfulness repose,
And know that He indeed is God:
Around his throne we hope to meet,
And cast our crowns beneath his feet.]


C. M. Sorrow lightened by the prospect of glory.

2 Cor. iv, 17, 18; v, 1-4.
1 And let these feeble bodies fail,

And droop, and sink, and die,
Our souls shall quit the mournful vale,

And soar to worlds on high,

2 Then shall we join the ransom'd throng,

And find our wish’d-for rest;
That only joy for which we long-

To be with Jesus blest.
3 In hope of that immortal state,

We now the cross sustain;
And gladly bear our ills, though great,

And smile at toil and pain.
4 We suffer on our anxious years,

Till our Redeemer come
To wipe away his servants' tears,

And take his exiles home.
5 Oh! what are all our trials here,

If, Lord! Thou count us meet,
With angel-hosts, in yon blest sphere,

To worship at thy feet!


P. M.
The world where parting is unknown.
Dan, xii, 8. Matt. xili, 48. Heb. vi, 12.
i FRIEND after friend departs;

Who hath not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts,

That finds not here an end:
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying, none were blest.

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