Immagini della pagina

Soon shall you hear the Bridegroom's voice,

To call you to your home.
5 The time is short! it swiftly flies

The hour is just at hand,
When we shall mount above the skies,

And reach the wish’d-for land.
6 The time is short!--the moment ncar,

When we shall dwell above; And be for ever happy there,



L. M. 228.

The returning Backsider. 1 STAY, thou insulted Spirit, stay,

Though I have done thee such despite; Nor cast the sinner quite away,

Nor take thine everlasting Hight. 2 Though I have steeld my stubborn heart,

And oft shook off my guilty fears; And vex'd and urg'd thee to depart,

For many long rebellious years; 3 Though I have most unfaithful been

Of all who e'er thy grace receiv'd; Ten thousand times thy goodness seen;

Ten thousand times thy goodness griev'd; A Yet O! the chief of sinners spare

In honour of my great High-Priest: Nor in thy righteous anger swear,

T'exclude me from thy people's rest. 5 This only wo I deprecate,

This only plague I pray remove, Nor leave me in my lost estate,

Nor curse me with this want of love. 6 F'en now, my weary soul release, Upraise me


And guide into thy perfect peace,
And bring me to the promis'd land.

L. M. 229. My spirit shall not always strive. Gen. vi. S. SAY sinner, hath a voice within

Oft whisper'd to thy secret soul, Urg'd thee to leave the ways of sin,

And yield thy heart to God's control? 2 Hath something met thee in the path

Of worldliness and vanity
And pointed to the coming wrath,

And warn'd thee from that wrath to flee! 3 Sinner, it was a heav'nly voice,

It was the Spirit's gracious call;
It bade thee make the better choice,

And haste to seek in Christ thine all. 4 Spuru not the call to life and light;

Regard in time the warning kind; That call thou may'st not always slight,

And yet the gate of mercy find. 5 God's Spirit will not always strive

With harden'd, self-destroying man; Ye, who persist his love to grieve,

May never hear his voice again. 6 Sinner-perhaps this very day,

Thy last accepted time may be;
Oh, should'st thou grieve him now away

Then hope may never beam on thee.


C. M.
TOW is the time, th' accepted hour,

O sinners, come away;
The Saviour's knocking at your door,

Arise without delay.
2 Oh! don't refuse to give him room,
Lest merey should withdraw;

He'll then in robes of vengeance come

To execute his law. 3 Then where, poor mortals, will you be, If destitute of

grace, When you your injur'd Judge shall see,

And stand before his face.
$ Oh! could you shun that dreadful sight,

How would you wish to fly
To the dark shades of endless night,

From that all-searching eye?
5 The dead awak'd must all appear,

And you among them stand,
Before the great impartial bar,

Arraign'd at Christ's left hand. 6 Let not these warnings be in vain,

But lend a list’uing ear;
Lest you should meet thein all again,

When wrapt in keen despair.



S. M. i A?

ND am I born to die?

To lay this body down?
And must my trembling spirit fly

Into a world unknown? 2 Soon as from earth I go

What will become of me?
Eternal happiness or wo

Must then my portion be!
3 Wak'd by the trumpet's sound,

I from my grave must rise,
And see the Judge with glory crown',

And see the flaming skies. 4 How shall I leave my tomb! With triuinph or regret!

A fearful or a joyful doom,

A curse or blessing meet? 5 Will angel bands convey

Their brother to the bar! Or devils drag my soul away

To meet its sentence there! 6 Who can resolve the doubt

That tears my anxious breast? Shall I be with the damn'd cast out,

Or number'd with the blest? 7 I must from God be driven,

Or with my Saviour dwell;
Must come at his command to heaven,

Or else depart to hell.
8 thou that wouldst not have

One wretched sinner die,
Who diedst thyself, my soul to save

From endless misery;
9 Show me the way to shun

Thy dreadful wrath severe,
That when thou comest on thy throne,

I may with joy appear. 232.

P. M. 1 AN

ND 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 Ilow 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

Th' inexorable throne! 4 No matter which my thoughts employ, A moment's misery or joy:

But oh! when both shall end, Where shall I find my destin'd 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 my 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!

L. M. 233.

Sickness and Death. 1 My soul, the minutes haste away,

Apace comes on th' important day, When in the icy arms of death

I must give up my vital breath.
2 Look forward to the moving scene;

How wilt thou be affected then?
When from on high some sharp disease

Resistless shall my vitals seize,
3 When all the springs of life are low,
The spirits faint, the pulses slow;

« IndietroContinua »