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FOR THE SICK.

HYMN 121. L. M.

HEN dangers, woes, or death, are nigh, Passed mercies teach me where to fly: Thine arm, Almighty God, can aid, When sickness grieves, and pains invade. 2 To all the various helps of art Kindly thy healing power impart ; Bethesda's bath refused to save, Unless an angel blessed the wave. 3 All medicines act by thy decree, Receive commission all from thee; And not a plant, which spreads the plains, But teems with health, when Heaven ordains.

4 Clay and Siloam's pool, we find,

At Heaven's command, restored the blind;
And Jordan's waters hence were seen
To wash a Syrian leper clean.
5 But grant me nobler favours still,
Grant me to know and do thy will;
Purge my foul soul from every stain,
And save me from eternal pain.
6 Can such a wretch for pardon, sue?
My crimes, my crimes arise in view,
Arrest my trembling tongue in prayer,
And pour the horrors of despair.

7 But thou, regard my contrite sighs,
My tortured breast, my streaming eyes;
To me thy boundless love extend,
My God, my Father, and my Friend.
8 These lovely names I ne'er could plead,
Had not thy Son vouchsafed to bleed;
His blood procures our fallen race
Admittance to the throne of grace.

9 When sin has shot its poisoned dart,
And conscious guilt corrodes the heart,
His blood is all-sufficient found

To draw the shaft, and heal the wound. 10 What arrows pierce so deep as sin? What venom gives such pain within?

Thou great Physician of the soul,
Rebuke my pangs, and make me whole.
11 O! if I trust thy sovereign skill,
And bow submissive to thy will,
Sickness and death shall both agree
To bring me, Lord, at last, to thee.

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HYMN 122. C. M.

On Recovery from Sickness.

HEN we are raised from deep distress,
Our God deserves our song;
We take the pattern of our praise

From Hezekiah's tongue.

2 The gates of the devouring grave
Are opened wide in vain,

If he that holds the keys of death
Command them fast again.

3 When he but speaks the healing word,
Then no disease withstands;
Fevers and plagues obey the Lord,
And fly, as he commands.

4 If half the strings of life should break,
He can our frame restore,
And cast our sins behind his back,
And they are found no more.

5 To him I cried, "Thy servant save,
"Thou, ever good and just;

"Thy power can rescue from the grave,
Thy power is all my trust!"

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6 He heard, and saved my soul from death,
And dried my falling tears;
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
Through my remaining years.

HYMN 123. L. M.

On the same.

1 MY God, since thou hast raised me up,

Thee I'll extol with thankful voice;

Restored by thine almighty power,
With fear before thee I'll rejoice.

2 With troubles worn, with pain oppressed,
To thee I cried, and thou didst save;

Thou didst support my sinking hopes,
My life didst rescue from the grave.
3 Wherefore, ye saints, rejoice with me,
With me sing praises to the Lord;
Call all his goodness to your mind,
And all his faithfulness record.
4 His anger is but short; his love,
Which is our life, hath certain stay,
Grief may continue for a night,

But joy returns with rising day.
5 Then, what I vowed in my distress,
In happier hours, I now will give,
And strive, that, in my grateful verse,
His praises may for ever live.

6 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The blessed and undivided Three,
The one sole Giver of all life,
Glory and praise for ever be.

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FUNERALS.

HYMN 124. C. M.

EAR what the voice from heaven declares, To those in Christ who die :"Released from all their earthly cares,

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They'll reign with him on high." 2 Then why lament departed friends, Or shake at death's alarms? Death's but the servant Jesus sends, To call us to his arms.

3 If sin be pardoned, we're secure ;
Death hath no sting beside;

The law gave sin its strength and power;
But Christ, our Ransom, died.

4 The graves of all his saints he blessed,
When in the grave he lay;

And, rising thence, their hopes he raised,
To everlasting day.

5 Then, joyfully, while life we have,

To Christ, our Life, we'll sing,

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"Where is thy victory, O grave?
"And where, O death, thy sting?"

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HYMN 125. C. M.

HEN those we love are snatched away,
By death's resistless hand,

Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,

That friendship must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
With awful power impressed,
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 instructive scene.
May every heart obey ;
Nor be the faithful warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray.

5 O! let us to that Saviour fly,
Whose arm alone can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.

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HYMN 126. C. M.

Death of a young Person.

OW short the race our friend has run,
Cut down in all his bloom!

The course, but yesterday begun,

Now finished in the tomb !

2 Thou joyous youth, hence learn how soon
Thy years may end their flight:
Long, long before life's brilliant noon,
May come death's gloomy night.

3 To serve thy God, no longer wait;
To-day his voice regard;
To-morrow, mercy's open gate
May be for ever barred.

4 And thus the Lord reveals his grace,

Thy youthful love to gain

The soul that early seeks my face
Shall never seek in vain.

HYMN 127. L. M.

Death of an Infant.

S the sweet flower, that scents the morn, But withers in the rising day, Thus lovely was this infant's dawn, Thus swiftly fled its life away.

2 It died ere its expanding soul

Had ever burned with wrong desires, Had ever spurned at heaven's control, Or ever quenched its sacred fires.

3 It died to sin, it died to cares,

But for a moment felt the rod :-
O! mourner, such, the Lord declares,
Such are the children of our God.

VIII. INVITATION AND WARNING.

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HYMN 128. III. 1.

SINNERS, turn: why will ye die?

God, your Maker, asks you, why?

God, who did your being give,
Made you with himself to live,
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the work of his own hands:
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die?
2 Sinners, turn: why will ye die ?
God, your Saviour, asks you, why?
He who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself, that ye might live.
Will you let him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransomed sinners, why
Will ye slight his grace, and die?
3 Sinners, turn: why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you, why?
He who all your lives hath strove,
Wooed you to embrace his love,