H

4 Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there. St. Anns.] HYMN 563. C. M. 1 ARK! from the tombs a doleful sound,

My ears attend the cry: “Ye living men, come view the ground

Where you must shortly lie.
2 “Princes, this clay must be your bed,

In spite of all your tow'rs;
The tall, the wise, the reverend head,

Shall lie as low as ours.'
3 Great God! is this our certain doom!

And are we still secure !
Still walking downward to the tomb,

And yet prepar'd no more!
4 Grant us the pow'r of quick’ning grace,

To fit our souls to fly;
Then, when we drop this dying flesh,

We'll rise above the sky,
Hotham.) HYMN 564. 8 lines 7's.

SARK! a voice divides the sky;

In the Lord who sweetly die,

They from all their toils are freed! Them the Spirit hath declar'd

Blest, unutterably blest ; Jesus is their great reward,

Jesus is their endless rest. 2 Follow'd by their works they go,

Where their Head is gone before; Reconcil'd by grace below,

Grace hath open'd mercy's door ;

Justified through faith alone,

Here they knew their sins forgiven ; Here they laid their burden down,

Hallow'd, and made meet for heav'n. 3 Who can now lament the lot

Of a saint in Christ deceas'd ? Let the world, who know us not,

Call us hopeless and unblest: When from flesh the spirit freed,

Hastens homeward to return, Mortals

cry,

“A man is dead !!! Angels sing,

“ A child is born!" 4 Born into the world above,

They our happy brother greet;
Bear him to the throne of love,

Place him at the Saviour's feet :
Jesus smiles, and says, “Well done,

66 Good and faithful servant thou!
" Enter, and receive thy crown,

“ Reign with me triumphant now." 5 Angels catch th' approving sound,

Bow, and bless the just award ;
Hail the heir with glory crown'd,

Now rejoicing with his Lord;
Fuller joys ordain’d to know,

Waiting for the general doom,
When th' archangel's trump shall blow,

6 Rise, ye dead, to judgment comc."

China.] HYMN 565. C. M. 1 THY do we mourn for dying friends,

W

'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,

To call them to his arms.
Are we not tending upward too,
As fast as time can move?

Nor should we wish the hours more slow,

To keep us from our love. 3 Why should we tremble to convey,

Their bodies to the tomb? There once the flesh of Jesus lay,

And left a long perfume.
4 The graves of all his saints he blest,

And soften'd every bed :
Where should the dying members rest,

But with their dying Head?
5 Thence he arose, ascending high,

And show'd our feet the way: Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,

At the great rising day. 6 Then let the last loud trumpet sound,

And bid our kindred rise; Awake, ye nations under ground;

Yę saints, ascend the skies. Canada.] HYMN 566. L. M. 1 HRINKING from the cold hand of death,

1

Shall soon resign this fleeting breath,

And die,-my father's God to meet. 2 Number'd among thy people, I

Expect with joy thy face to see Because thou didst for sinners die,

Jesus, in death remember me ! 3 that without a ling'ring groan,

I may the welcome word receive ! My body with my charge lay down,

And cease at once to work and live! 4 Walk with me through the dreadful shade,

And certify'd that thou art mine, My spirit calm, and undismay'd,

Í sħall into thy hands resign.

5 No anxious doubt, no guilty gloom,

Shall damp whom Jesu's presence cheers ; My light, my life, my God is come,

And glory in his face appears ! Angel's Hymn.] HYMN 567. L. M. 1 ASS a few swiftly fleeting years,

Shall quit, like me, this vale of tears,

Their righteous sentence to receive. 2 But all before they hence remove,

May mansions for themselves prepare,
In that eternal house above :

And, O my God, shall I be there?
Nazareth.] HYMN 568. L. M.

THE morning flowers display their sweets,

As careless of the noontide heats,

As fearless of the evening cold. 2 Nipt by the wind's untimely blast,

Parch'd by the sun's directer ray,
The momentary glories waste,

The short-liv'd beauties die away. 3 So blooms the human face divine,

When youth its pride of beauty shows:
Fairer than spring the colours shine,

And sweeter than the virgin-rose. 4 Or worn by slowly-rolling years,

Or broke by sickness in a day,
The fading glory disappears,

The short-liv'd beauties die away. 5 Yet these, new-rising from the tomb,

With lustre brighter far shall shine,
Revive with ever-during bloom,

Safe from diseases and decline.

6 Let sickness blast, let death devour,

If heaven must recompense our pains : Perish the grass, and fade the flower,

If firm the word of God remains.

Slate ford.] HYMN 569. 2 6's & 4 7's. 1

A !

GAIN we lift our voice,
Cause of highest raptures this,

Raptures that shall never fail !
See a soul escap'd to bliss,

Keep the Christian festival!
Our friend is gone before

To that celestial shore;
He hath left his mates behind,

He hath all the storms outrode;
Found the rest we toil to find,

Landed in the arms of God. 3 And shall we mourn to see

Our fellow-prisoner free?
Free from doubts, and griefs, and fears,

In the haven of the skies :
Can we weep to see the tears

Wip'd for ever from his eyes ? 4 No, dear companion, no!

We gladly let thee go,
From a suffering church beneath,

To a reigning church above :
Thou hast more than conquer'd death;

Thou art crown'd with life and love, 5 Thou, in thy youthful prime,

Hast leap'd the bounds of time: Suddenly from earth releas’d,

Lo! we now rejoice for thee; Taken to an early rest,

Caught into eternity.