Yet O! what consequences close
This transient state below!
Eternal joys; or, losing those,
Interminable wo!
The righteous blessed in death.
1 How bless'd the righteous when he dies!-
When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves the' expiring breast!
2 So fades a summer-cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies a wave along the shore.
3 A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfetter'd soul enjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears, Where lights and shades alternate dwell! How bright the' unchanging morn appears; Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!
5 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay, Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say, "How bless'd the righteous when he dies!"
The dead who die in the Lord.
1 In vain our fancy strives to paint
The moment after death,
The glories that surround the saint,
When he resigns his breath.
2 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks;
We scarce can say, "He's gone,"
Before the willing spirit takes
Her mansion near the throne.
3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail
To trace her heavenward 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 supremely blest;
Have done with sin, and care, and wo,
And with their Saviour rest.
5 On harps of gold his name they praise,
His presence always view;—
And if we here their footsteps trace,
There we shall praise Him too.
Death and the Resurrection.
I How long shall death the tyrant reign,
And triumph o'er the just,
While the rich blood of martyrs slain,
Lies mingled with the dust!
2 I see the Lord of glory come,
And flaming guards around:
The skies divide to make Him room,
The trumpet shakes the ground.
3 I hear the voice, "Ye dead, arise!"
And, lo, the graves obey;
And waking saints, with joyful eyes,
Salute the' expected day.
4 They leave the dust, and on the wing Rise to the middle air;
In shining garments meet their King, And low adore Him there.
5 O may my humble spirit stand
Amongst them, clothed in white! The meanest place at his right hand Is infinite delight.
The Fear of Death overcome.
1 I CANNOT shun the stroke of death-
Lord, help me to surmount the fear;
That when I must resign my breath,
Serene my summons I may hear.
2 'Tis sin gives venom to the dart-
In me let every sin be slain;
From secret faults, Lord, cleanse my heart,
From wilful sins my hands restrain.
3 May I, my God, with holy zeal,
Closely the ends of life pursue,
Seek thy whole pleasure to fulfil,
And honour Thee in all I do!
4 Let all my bliss and treasure lie,
Where in thy light I light shall see :
The soul may freely dare to die,
That longs to be possess'd of Thee.
5 Say Thou art mine, and chase the gloom
Thick hanging o'er the vale of death:
Then shall I fearless meet my doom,
And as a victor yield my breath.
The Death of a Minister.
1 Now let our mourning hearts revive,
And all our tears be dry;
Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief,
Which view a Saviour nigh?
2 What though the arm of conquering death Does God's own house invade?
What though the prophet and the priest
Be number'd with the dead?
3 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged, and the young,
The watchful eye in darkness closed,
And mute the' instructive tongue,
4 The' Eternal Shepherd still survives,
New comfort to impart ;
His eye still guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.
5" Lo, I am with you," saith the Lord;
My church shall safe abide;
For I will ne'er forsake my own,
Whose souls in me confide."
6 Through every scene of life and death,
This promise is our trust;
And this shall be our children's song,
When we are cold in dust.
Hope in the Resurrection.
1 UNVEIL 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 Break from thy throne, illustrious morn!
Attend, O Earth, his sovereign word:
Restore thy trust; to life new-born,
He must ascend to meet his Lord.
3 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,
Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes
Can reach the lovely sleepers here,
And angels watch their soft repose.
4 So Jesus slept; God's dying Son
Pass'd through the grave, and bless'd the bed:
Rest here, dear saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
303.
The Dying Believer to his Soul.
1 DEATHLESS principle, arise;
Soar, thou native of the skies;
Pearl of price, by Jesus bought,
To his glorious likeness wrought,
Go to shine before his throne,
Deck his mediatorial crown :
Go, his triumphs to adorn,
Born of God to God return.
2 Lo, He beckons from on high,
Fearless, to his presence fly:
Thine the merit of his blood,
Thine the righteousness of God.
Angels, joyful to attend,
Hovering round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,
And escort thee quick to heaven.
3 Is thy earthly house distress'd?
Willing to retain her guest?
'Tis not thou, but she, must die:
Fly, celestial tenant, fly;
Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay,
Sweetly breathe thyself away:
Singing, to thy crown remove,
Swift of wing, and fired with love.
4 Shudder not to pass the stream:
Venture all thy care on Him;
Him, whose dying love and power
Still'd its tossing, hush'd its roar.
Safe is the expanded wave;
Gentle as a summer's eve;
Not one object of his care
Ever suffer'd shipwreck there.
5 See the haven full in view!
Love divine shall bear thee through:
Trust to that propitious gale;
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail :
Saints in glory perfect made,
Wait thy passage through the shade;
Ardent for thy coming o'er,
See, they throng the blissful shore.
6 Mount, their transports to improve, Join the longing choir above;
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