No anger henceforward, or shame,
Shall redden his innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,

And passion is vanish'd away.
3 The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Seal'd up in eternal repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep; These fountains can yield no suppliesThese hollows from water are free; The tears are all wip'd from these eyes, And evil they never shall see.

4 To mourn and to suffer is mine, While bound in a prison I breathe, And still for deliverance pine,

And press to the issues of death. What now with my tears I bedew, Oh, shall I not shortly become! My spirit created anew,

Ere I am consign'd to the tomb!

'TIS finish'd! the conflict is past, The heav'n-born spirit is fled; Her wish is accomplish'd at last,

And now she's entomb'd with the dead.

The months of affliction are o’er,

The days and the nights of distress; We see her in anguish no more— She's gained her happy release. 2 No sickness, or sorrow, or pain, Shall ever disquiet her now; For death to her spirit was gain, Since Christ was her life when below. Her soul has now taken its flight To mansions of glory above, To mingle with angels of light, And dwell in the kingdom of love.

3 The victory now is obtain'd;

She's gone her dear Saviour to see;

Her wishes she fully has gain'd-
She's now where she longed to be.
Then let us forbear to complain,

That she has now gone from our sight;
We soon shall behold her again,
With new and redoubled delight.

144

HYMN C. M.

Death of a young person.

1 When blooming youth is snatch'd away
By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
Oh, may this truth, imprest
With awful pow'r-"I too must die”—
Sink deep in ev'ry breast.

3 The voice of this alarming scene
May ev'ry heart obey;

Nor be the heav'nly warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray.

4 Oh, let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose pow'rful arm can save; Then shall our hopes ascend on high, And triumph o'er the grave.

HYMN. C. M.

145 Death and Burial of Christians.

1 WHY do we mourn departing friends,
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,
To heav'n's desired abode?-

Why should we wish the hours more slow, Which keeps us from our God?

3 Why should we tremble to convey Their bodies to the tomb?

'Twas there the Saviour's body 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 his saints 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!
Ye saints! ascend the skies.

146

HYMN. L. M.

The peaceful Death of the Righteous.

1 SWEET is the scene when Christians die, When holy souls retire to rest: How mildly beams the closing eye!

How gently heaves th' expiring breast! 2 So fades a summer cloud away;

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day;

So dies a wave along the shore.

3 Triumphant smiles the victor's brow, Fann'd by some guardian angel's wing: O grave! where is thy victory now,

And where, O death, where is thy sting!

147

HYMN. S. M. 1 O FOR the death of those

Who slumber in the Lord!
O be like theirs my last repose,
Like theirs my last reward.

2 Their bodies, in the ground,
In silent hope may lie,
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound
Shall call them to the sky.

3 Their ransomed spirits soar

On wings of faith and love,
To meet the Saviour they adore,
And reign with him above.
4 With us their names shall live
Through long succeeding years,

Embalmed with all our hearts can give, Our praises and our tears.

5 O for the death of those

Who slumber in the Lord!
O be like theirs my last repose,
Like theirs my last reward.

148

TIME AND ETERNITY.

HYMN. C. M.

Time short and misspent.

1 HOW short and hasty is our life!
How vast our soul's affairs!
Yet senseless mortals vainly strive
To lavish out their years.
2 Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay;

Just like a story, or a song,
We pass our lives away.

3 God from on high invites us home,
But we march heedless on,
And, ever hastening to the tomb,
Stoop downward as we run.

4 How we deserve the deepest hell,
That slight the joys above!

What chains of vengeance should we feel, That break such cords of love!

5 Draw us, O God, with sov’reign grace,
And lift our thoughts on high,

That we may end this mortal race,
And see salvation nigh.

1 THE time is short!-sinners, beware,

Nor trifle time away:

The word of great salvation hear,
While yet 'tis called to-day.

2 The time is short!-O sinners, now,
To Christ the Lord submit;

To mercy's golden sceptre bow,

And fall at Jesus' feet.

3 The time is short!-ye saints, rejoiceThe Lord will quickly come:

Soon shall you hear the Saviour's voice,
To call you to your home.

4 The time is short?-it swiftly flies-
The hour is just at hand,

When we shall mount above the skies,
And reach the wished-for land.

5 The time is short!-the moment near, When we shall dwell above;

And be forever happy there,
With Jesus, whom we love.

HYMN. C. M.

150 Time the Period to prepare for Eternity.

1 THEE we adore, Eternal Name!
And humbly own to thee
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we!

2 The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do-where'er we be,
We 're travelling to the grave.

3 Great God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal state of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings!

4 Eternal joy-or endless wo

Attends on every breath!
And yet how unconcern'd we go
Upon the brink of death!

5 Awake, O Lord, our drowsy sense,
To walk this dang'rous road;
And if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.

1 LIFE is the time to serve the Lord, The time t' insure the great reward;