1093 Day dawns on the night of the grave. L. M. SHALL man, O God of light and life, Forever moulder in the grave? Nor day-star gild the darksome skies? And heaven with praise and wonder rang. 4 Faith sees the bright, eternal doors Unfold, to make his children way; They shall be clothed with endless life, And shine in everlasting day. 5 The trump shall sound-the dead shall wake; From the cold tomb the slumb'rers spring; Through heaven, with joy, their myriads rise, And hail their Saviour and their King. 1094 C. M. Certainty of the resurrection dispels the gloom of the grave. WHY do we mourn for dying friends, WHY we Or shake at death's alarms? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends, To call them to his arms. 2 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, 4 The graves of all his saints he blest, Where should the dying members rest, 5 Thence he arose, ascending high, 6 Then let the last, loud trumpet sound, And bid our kindred rise : : Awake, ye nations under ground; 1095 C. M. Awaking from the dust with shouts of praise. HROUGH sorrow's night, and danger's path, We, foll❜wers of our suff'ring Lord, Are marching to the tomb. 2 There, when the turmoil is no more, 3 Our labours done, securely laid The storms of earth may beat. 4 Yet not thus buried, or extinct, For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise 5 These ashes, too, this little dust, Till the last angel rise and break 1096 S. M. Sown a natural body, raised a spiritual body. AND must this body die This well-wrought frame decay? 3 God my Redeemer lives, And ever from the skies Looks down, and watches all my dust, 4 Array'd in glorious grace 5 These lively hopes we owe, Till tunes of nobler sound we raise 1097 Sown in weakness, raised in glory. L. M. HE morning flowers display their sweets, As careless of the noontide heats, As fearless of the evening cold. 2 Nipp'd by the wind's untimely blast, Parch'd by the sun's directer ray, The momentary glories waste, The short-lived beauties die away. 3 So blooms the human face divine, 4 Or worn by slowly-rolling years, The short-lived beauties die away. 5 Yet these, new rising from the tomb, 6 Let sickness blast, let death devour, 1098 The pledge of immortality. OUR great Creator, God, Who built this house of clay, Can re-inspire the breathless clod, In his appointed day. From dust he form'd us man, And shall we doubt his power? 2 Who breathed into our earth Sure that our bodies too shall live Forever one with thee. S. M. 1099 1st P. M. 6 lines. 8s. In my flesh shall I see God. CALL the world's Redeemer mine; And raise this individual me, 3 In this identic body, I, With eyes of flesh refined, restored, Shall see that self-same Saviour nigh, See for myself my smiling Lord; See with ineffable delight, Nor faint to bear the glorious sight. 4 Then let the worms demand their prey, 1100 WH Exulting in the final victory. C. M. HEN the last trumpet's awful voice When opening graves shall yield their charge, 2 Those bodies that corrupted fell Shall incorrupt arise, And mortal forms shall spring to life |