2 Rest for the fevered brain,
Rest for the throbbing eye;

Thro' these parched lips of thine no more
Shall pass the moan or sigh.

3 Soon shall the trump of God
Give out the welcome sound,
That shakes thy silent chamber-walls,
And breaks the sealed ground.

4 Ye dwellers in the dust,

Awake! come forth and sing;
Sharp has your frost of winter been,
But bright shall be your spring.

5 'T was sown in weakness here:

1206.

'T will then be raised in power; That which was sown an earthly seed, Shall rise a heavenly flower!

1 I would not live alway: I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way;
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer.

2 I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin-
Temptation without and corruption within:
Ev'n the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.
3 I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb;
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom;
There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.

4 Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns?—

5 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet; While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul.

2 Cor. 12.10.

11s.

1207. 1 FOR what shall I praise thee, my God and my King, For what blessings the tribute of gratitude bring? Shall I praise thee for pleasure, for health,or for ease, For the sunshine of youth, for the garden of peace?

2 For this I should praise; but if only for this, I should leave half untold the donation of bliss! I thank thee for sickness, for sorrow, and care, For the thorns I have gathered, the anguish I bear;

3 For nights of anxiety, watching, and tears, A present of pain, a prospective of fears;

I praise thee, I bless thee, my Lord and my God, For the good and the evil thy hand hath bestowed!

1208.

Ps, 102 24.

10s.

1 Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime!
In full activity of zeal and power;
A Christian cannot die before his time;
The Lord's appointment is the servant's hour.

2 Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease;

Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest-task is done; Come from the heat of battle, and in peace, Soldier! go home; with thee the fight is won.

3 Go to the grave, which, faithful to its trust,
The germ of immortality shall keep;
While, safe as watched by cherubim, thy dust
Shall to the judgment-day in Jesus sleep.

4 Go to the grave, for there thy Saviour lay
In death's embraces, ere he rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way,
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.

5 Go to the grave? no, take thy seat above!
Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord,
Where thou for faith and hope hast perfect love,
And open vision for the written Word.

1209.

10s.

1 OFTEN at evening comes a glowing thought
Of that which lies beyond our present sense;
Of those high scenes whose glories all are wrought
By God's pure love, and his omnipotence.

2 The golden bars that shine behind the sun,

The glorious seas that seem beneath him poured, The splendid hues, all melting into one,—

These look thy outworks, palace of the Lord!

3 Yet not, not here, O city of our God!
Do we thy ageless glories truly see,
As when the souls, submissive 'neath the rod,
Or white in pureness, testify of thee!

1 A holy charity still tells us more

Of thy real beauty, bright, serene and high, Where love and faith walk on the emblazoned floor, And perfect joy doth sing unceasingly.

5 O Son of God! exalted on thy throne,

By whom our pardon, light, and peace are given, Impart the grace that comes from thee alone, And make us feel, that we may see, thy heaven.

1 THIS place is holy ground!
World, with its cares, away !
A holy, solemn stillness, round

This lifeless, mouldering clay;
Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here.

2 Behold the bed of death,

The pale and mortal clay!
Heard ye the sob of parting breath?
Marked ye the eye's last ray!
No! life so sweetly ceased to be,
It lapsed in immortality.

3 Why mourn the pious dead?

Why sorrows swell our eyes?
Can sighs recall the spirit fled?
Shall vain regrets arise?

S. H. M.

Though death has caused this altered mien,
In heaven the ransomed soul is seen.

4 Bury the dead, and weep

1211.

In stillness o'er the loss,

Bury the dead! in Christ they sleep
Who bore on earth his cross;

And from the grave their dust shall rise,
In his own image to the skies.

1 Cor. 15: 19.

1 FRIEND after friend departs;
Who has not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts
That finds not here an end:
Were this frail world our only rest,
Living or dying, none were blest.

S. H. M.

2 Beyond the flight of time,
Beyond this vale of death,
There surely is some blesséd clime
Where life is not a breath,
Nor life's affections transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upward and expire.

3 There is a world above

Where parting is unknown;
A whole eternity of love

Formed for the good alone;
And faith beholds the dying here
Translated to that happier sphere.
4 Thus star by star declines
Till all are passed away,

1212.

As morning high and higher shines
To pure and perfect day :

Nor sink those stars in empty night;
They hide themselves in heaven's own light.

John 11: 23.

1 BROTHER, though from yonder sky
Cometh neither voice nor cry,
Yet we know from thee to-day
Every pain hath passed away.

2 Not for thee shall tears be given,
Child of God, and heir of heaven;
For he gave thee sweet release;
Thine the Christian's death of peace.

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3 Well we know thy living faith
Had the power to conquer death
As a living rose may bloom
By the border of the tomb.

4 Brother, in that solemn trust
We commend thee, dust to dust!
In that faith we wait, till, risen
Thou shalt meet us all in heaven.

7s.