1069

A voice from the grave.

C. M.

HA

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 towers;

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 prepared no more?

4 Grant us the power of quick'ning grace,
To fit our souls to fly;

Then, when we drop this dying flesh,
We'll rise above the sky.

1070

Christ's
's presence makes death easy.

L. M.

HY should we start, and fear to die?

WHY

Death is the gate to endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there.
2 The pains, the groans, the dying strife,
Fright our approaching souls away;
And we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prison and our clay. 30 would my Lord his servant meet,

My soul would stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless through death's iron gate, Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd.

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.

1071

C. M.

Death of children.

HY life I read, my gracious Lord,
With transport all divine;

Thine image trace in every word,
Thy love in every line.

2 Methinks I see a thousand charms
Spread o'er thy lovely face,
While infants in thy tender arms
Receive the smiling grace.

3 I take these little lambs, said he,
And lay them in my breast;
Protection they shall find in me,
In me be ever blest.

4 Death may the bands of life unloose, But can't dissolve my love;

Millions of infant souls compose
The family above.

5 His words the happy parents hear,
And shout, with joys divine,-

O Saviour, all we have and are
Shall be forever thine.

1072

4th P. M. 886, 886.

The momentous question.

AND am I only born to die?

And must I suddenly comply
With nature's stern decree?
What after death for me remains?
Celestial joys, or hellish pains,
To all eternity.

2 How then ought I on earth to live, While God prolongs the kind reprieve, And props the house of clay?

My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare
Against that fatal day.

3 No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone;

If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The' inexorable throne!

4 No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment's misery or joy;

But, O! when both shall end,
Where shall I find my destined place?
Shall I my everlasting days

With fiends or angels spend?

5 Nothing is worth a thought beneath,
But how I may escape the death
That never, never dies!

How make mine own election sure;
And when I fail on earth, secure
A mansion in the skies.

6 Jesus, vouchsafe a pitying ray;
Be thou my Guide, be thou my Way
To glorious happiness.

Ah! write the pardon on my heart;
And whensoe'er I hence depart,
Let me depart in peace.

1073

10th P. M. 8 lines 8s.

The grave disarmed of its terrors.

MAN dieth and wasteth a from the skies,

I hear a voice answer and say,-
The spirit of man never dies!
His body, which came from the earth,
Must mingle again with the sod;
His soul, which in heaven had birth,
Returns to the bosom of God.

2 No terror has death, or the grave, To those who believe in the LordWho know the Redeemer can save,

And lean on the faith of his word: While ashes to ashes, and dust

We give unto dust, in our gloom,
The light of salvation we trust,
Which hangs like a lamp in the tomb.

3 O Lord God Almighty! to thee
We turn, as our solace above;
The waters may fail from the sea,
But never thy fountains of love:
O teach us thy will to obey,

And sing, with one heart and accord,He gave, and he taketh away,

And praised be the name of the Lord.

1074

Victory over the fears of death.
FOR an overcoming faith,
To cheer my dying hours,-
To triumph o'er approaching death,
And all his frightful powers.

C. M.

2 Joyful, with all the strength I have,
My quiv'ring lips should sing,-
Where is thy boasted vict'ry, Grave?
And where, O Death, thy sting?

3 If sin be pardon'd, I'm secure ;
Death has no sting beside:
The law gives sin its damning power,
But Christ, my ransom, died.

4 Now to the God of victory

Immortal thanks be paid,

Who makes us conqu'rors, while we die, Through Christ, our living Head...

1075

L. M.

Disembodied saints.

HE saints who die of Christ possess'd,

THE

Enter into immediate rest;

For them no further test remains,
Of purging fires and torturing pains.
2 Who trusting in their Lord depart,
Cleansed from all sin, and pure in heart,
The bliss unmix'd, the glorious prize,
They find with Christ in paradise.
3 Yet, glorified by grace alone,
They cast their crowns before the throne,
And fill the echoing courts above

With praises of redeeming love.

1076

L. M.

The Christian's parting hour. OW sweet the hour of closing day, When all is peaceful and serene, And when the sun, with cloudless ray, Sheds mellow lustre o'er the scene! 2 Such is the Christian's parting hour; So peacefully he sinks to rest; When faith, endued from heaven with power, Sustains and cheers his languid breast.

3 Mark but that radiance of his eye,
That smile upon his wasted cheek;
They tell us of his glory nigh,

In language that no tongue can speak.
4 A beam from heaven is sent to cheer
The pilgrim on his gloomy road;
And angels are attending near,

To bear him to their bright abode.

5 Who would not wish to die like those Whom God's own Spirit deigns to bless? To sink into that soft repose,

Then wake to perfect happiness?