993

It is not death to die.

1 IT is not death to die,

To leave this weary road,
And, 'mid the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.
2 It is not death to close

The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

3 It is not death to bear

The wrench that sets us free

From dungeon chain, to breathe the air Of boundless liberty.

4 It is not death to fling

Aside this sinful dust,

And rise, on strong exulting wing,
To live among the just.

5 Jesus, thou Prince of life,

Thy chosen cannot die!

Like thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with thee on high.

Abraham H. C. Malan. Tr. by G. W. Bethune.

That shakes thy silent chamber-walls, And breaks the turf-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 'Twas sown in weakness here, "Twill then be raised in power: That which was sown an earthly seed, Shall rise a heavenly flower.

Horatius Bonar.

995 Because I live, ye shall live also.

1 AND must this body die,

This well-wrought frame decay? And must these active limbs of mine Lie moldering in the clay?

2 God, my Redeemer, lives, And ever from the skies

Looks down, and watches all my dust, Till he shall bid it rise.

3 Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape, and every face,
Be heavenly and divine.

4 These lively hopes we owe,
Lord, to thy dying love:
O may we bless thy grace below,
And sing thy grace above!

5 Saviour, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs,

Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

Isaac Watts.

996 Solemn thoughts of the future.
1 AND am I born to die?

To lay this body down?
And must my trembling spirit fly
Into a world unknown-
A land of deepest shade,

Unpierced by human thought,
The dreary regions of the dead,
Where all things are forgot?
2 Soon as from earth I go,

What will become of me? Eternal happiness or woe

Must then my portion be: Waked by the trumpet's sound, I from my grave shall rise,

And see the Judge, with glory crowned, And see the flaming skies!

3 Who can resolve the doubt

That tears my anxious breast?

Shall I be with the damned cast out,
Or numbered with the blest?

I must from God be driven,

Or with my Saviour dwell;

Must come at his command to heaven, Or else depart to hell!

4 O thou who wouldst not have
One wretched sinner die;

Who diedst thyself my soul to save
From endless misery;

Show me the way to shun

Thy dreadful wrath severe,

That when thou comest on thy throne I may with joy appear.

997

Charles Wesley.

For victory in death.

1 WHEN on the brink of death My trembling soul shall stand, Waiting to pass that awful flood, Great God, at thy command,2 When every scene of life Stands ready to depart,

And the last sigh that shakes the frame
Shall rend this bursting heart,-

3 Thou Source of joy supreme,
Whose arm alone can save,
Dispel the darkness that surrounds
The entrance to the grave.

4 Lay thy supporting hand
Beneath my sinking head;
And with a ray of love divine
Illume my dying bed.

5 Leaning on Jesus' breast,
May I resign my breath;
And in his kind embraces lose
The bitterness of death.

William B. Collyer, all

Thus the bonds of life he

1000

Clothed with immortality.

1 "SPIRIT, leave thy house of clay; Lingering dust, resign thy breath! Spirit, cast thy chains away;

Dust, be thou dissolved in death!" Thus the mighty Saviour speaks,

While the faithful Christian dies;
Thus the bonds of life he breaks,
And the ransomed captive flies.
2" Prisoner, long detained below,
Prisoner, now with freedom blest,
Welcome from a world of woe;

Welcome to a land of rest!"
Thus the choir of angels sing,
As they bear the soul on high,
While with hallelujahs ring
All the regions of the sky.

3 Grave, the guardian of our dust,
Grave, the treasury of the skies,
Every atom of thy trust

Rests in hope again to rise: Hark! the judgment-trumpet calls, "Soul, rebuild thy house of clay; Immortality thy walls,

And eternity thy day!"

1001

James Montgomery, alt.

Dying in the Lord. HARK! a voice divides the sky,Happy are the faithful dead! In the Lord who sweetly die,

"They from all their toils are freed;

1002

Bereavement and resignation.
1 JESUS, while our hearts are bleeding
O'er the spoils that death has won,
We would, at this solemn meeting,
Calmly say, "Thy will be done."

2 Though cast down, we're not forsaken; Though afflicted, not alone:

Thou didst give, and thou hast taken;
Blessed Lord, "Thy will be done.”

3 Though to-day we 're filled with mourning, Mercy still is on the throne;

With thy smiles of love returning,

We can sing, "Thy will be done." 4 By thy hands the boon was giver; Thou hast taken but thine own: Lord of earth, and God of heaven, Evermore, "Thy will be done."

Thomas Hastings.

1003 Conflict ended-crown waiting.
1 HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below;
Go, by angel guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus go!
Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Shows the purchase of his merit,

Reaches out the crown of love.

2 Struggle through thy latest passion, To thy great Redeemer's breast, To his uttermost salvation,

To his everlasting rest.

For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die, to live a life of glory;

Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.
Charles Wesley.

1004

[7. Tune, Leavitt. Page 370.] The dying believer.

1 DEATHLESS spirit, now arise;
Soar, thou native of the skies!
Pearl of price by Jesus bought,
To his glorious likeness wrought,--

2 Go, to shine before the throne;
Deck the Mediator's crown;
Go, his triumphs to adorn ;
Made for God, to God return.

3 Lo! he beckons from on high;
Fearless to his presence fly:
Thine the merit of his blood,
Thine the righteousness of God.
4 Angels, joyful to attend,
Hovering round thy pillow, bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,
And convey thee quick to heaven.
5 Shudder not to pass the stream:
Venture all thy care on him,-
Him, whose dying love and power
Stilled its tossings, hushed its roar.

6 Safe is the expanded wave,
Gentle as a summer's eve;
Not one object of his care
Ever suffered shipwreck there.

7 See the haven full in view:
Love divine shall bear thee through;
Trust to that propitious gale;
Weigh thine anchor, spread thy sail.

8 Saints in glory, perfect made,
Wait thy passage through the shade;
Ardent for thy coming o'er,
See, they throng the blissful shore.

Augustus M. Toplady.