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2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase ;
Leaves but the number less.
The breath that first it gave;
We're travelling to the grave.
To push us to the tomb;
To hurry mortals home.
To walk this dangerous road ;
May they be found with God!
11s. M. MUHLENBURG.
I would not live alway. 1 I WOULD not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way : I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb ;
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. 2 Who, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,
'heir aviour and brethren transported to greet, While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the life of the soul !
Quit, O, quit this mortal frame !
2 Hark! they whisper! angels say,
6. Sister spirit, come away.?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death? 3 The world recedes ; it disappears ;
Heaven opens on my eyes ; my ears
78. M. MONTGOMERY.
Lingering dust, resign thy breath;
Dust, be thou dissolved in death":
While the faithful Christian dies ;
And the ransomed captive flies. 2 “ Prisoner, long detained below,
Prisoner, now with freedom blest,
Welcome to a land of rest":
As they bear the soul on high,
All the regions of the sky,
WATTS. Meditation on the Tomb. 1 HARK! from the tombs a warning sound;
My ears, attend the cry; “ Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.
In spite of all your towers ;
3 Great God, is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?
And yet prepare no more ?
To fit our souls to fly ;
We'll rise above the sky.
BROWNE. Fear of Death overcome. 1 I CANNOT shun the stroke of death ;
Lord, help me to surmount the fear; That, when I must resign my breath,
Serene my summons I may hear. 2 'T is sin gives venom to the dart;
In me let every sin be slain ; From secret faults, Lord, cleanse my heart,
From wilful sins my hands restrain. 3 May I, my God, with holy zeal,
Closely the ends of life pursue, Seek thy whole pleasure to fulfil,
And honor thee in all I do. 4 Let all my bliss and treasure lie
Where, in thy light, I light may see ; The soul may freely dare to die,
That longs to be possessed of thee. 576.
8 & 4s. M. MONTGOMERY.
The Grave. 1 THERE is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found : They softly lie and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground.
No more disturbs their deep repose,
That shuts the rose.
To realms of everlasting light,
4 Thy soul, renewed by grace divine,
In God's own image, freed from clay,
A star of day.
han & 4s. M. MRS. GILBERT. Prayer for Support in Death. 1 WHEN the vale of death appears,
Faint and cold this mortal clay,
Break the shadows,
Bid my waiting soul aspire ;
6 & 58. M. ANONYMOUS.
The Knell of Death.
Mournfully and slow;
In this vale of woe.
Hopes beyond the tomb;
To uncertain doom.
COLLYER. Prayer for Support in Death. 1 WHEN, bending o'er the brink of life,
My trembling soul shall stand,
Great God, at thy command,
2 Thou Source of life and joy supreme,
Whose arm alone can save,
The entrance to the grave.
Beneath my sinking head,
Illume my dying bed.
R. HILL. Prayer for the dying Christian. 1 GENTLY, my Father, let me down
To slumber in the arms of death :
E’en till my last expiring breath. 2 Soon will the storms of life be o'er;
And I shall enter endless rest:
And bless thy name for ever blest. 3 Bid me possess sweet peace within ;
Let childlike patience keep my heart ;
Before my spirit hence depart. 4 Hasten thy chariot, God of love!
And take me from this world of woe,
And bid farewell to all below.
Still louder notes than angels sing, –
My God, my Father, and my King.
And, like a raging flood,
And force us from our God.
How loud the tempests roar!