You must be driv?n from earth to dwell
A long FOREVER there!

4 See how the pit gapes wide for you,
And flashes in your face;

And thou, my soul, look downward too,
And sirg recov'ring grace.

5 He is a God of sov'reign love,
Who promis'd heav'n to me;
And taught my soul to soar above,
Where happy spirits be.

6 Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand,
Then come the joyful day;

Come, death, and some celestial band,
To bear my soul away.]

e 1

HYMN 53. C. M.

Zion. [b*]

The Pilgrimage of the Saints.

LORD, what a wretched land is this,

That yields us no supply;

No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees,
Nor streams of living joy!

2 But pricking thorns thro' all the ground,
And mortal poisons grow;

And all the rivers that are found,
With dangerous waters flow.

o 3 Yet the dear path to thine abode :
Lies through this horrid land:

Lord! we would keep the heav'nly road,
And run at thy command.

4 [Our souls shall tread the desert through, With undiverted feet;

And faith and flaming zeal subdue
The terrours that we meet.]

e 5 (A thousand savage beasts of prey
Around the forest roam;

• But Judah's Lion guards the way, And guides the strangers home.)

e 6 Long nights and darkness dwell below, With scarce a twinkling ray;

• But the bright world to which we go, Is everlasting day.

-7 By glimm'ring hopes, and gloomy fears, We trace the sacred road;

Through dismal deeps, and dangerous snares,
We make our way to God.

e 8 Our journey is a thorny maze,
But we march upwards still ;

-

o Forget these troubles of the ways, And reach at Zion's hill.

9 [See the kind angels, at the gates,
Inviting us to come;

There Jesus the Forerunner waits
To welcome trav'llers home.

-10 There, on a green and flow'ry mount,
Our weary souls shall sit,—

And with transporting joys, recount,
The labours of our feet.

11 No vain discourse shall fill our tongue,
Nor trifles vex our ear;
Infinite grace shall fill our song,
And God rejoice to hear.

o 12 Eternal glories to the King
Who brought us safely through,
Our tongues shall never cease to sing;
And endless praise renew.]

HYMN 54. C. M. Arundel. St. Martin's. [*]
God's Presence is Light in Darkness.

1

MY God, the spring of all my joys,

The life of my delights:

The glory of my brightest days,

And comfort of my nights.

2 In darkest shades, if he appear, My dawning is begun;

o He is my soul's sweet morning star, And he my rising sun.

b 3 The op'ning heav'ns around me shine,
With beams of sacred bliss;

While Jesus shows his heart is mine,
And whispers I am his.

o 4 My soul would leave this heavy clay,
At that transporting word;

u Run up with joy the shining way, T'embrace my dearest Lord.

o 5 Fearless of hell and ghastly death, I'd break through ev'ry foe;

The wings of love, and arms of faith,
Shall bear me conqu'ror through.
HYMN 55. C. M.

Bangor. [b]

Frail Life and Succeeding Eternity.

e 1 HEE we adore, Eternal Name;
And humbly own to thee,

How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we!

2 [Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;
And ev'ry beating pulse we tell,
Leaves but the number less.]
-3 (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.

4 Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
To push us to the tomb;

And fierce diseases wait around,

To hurry mortals home.

p 5 Good God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal state of all the dead,
Upon life's feeble strings.

e 6 Infinite joy, or endless wo,

Attends on ev'ry breath;

And yet how unconcern'd we go,
Upon the brink of death!

-7 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense,
To walk this dang'rous road;

And if our souls are hurried hence,

1

May they be found with God.

HYMN 56. C. M. Windsor. [b]
The Misery of being without God.
TO, I shall envy them no more,
Who grow profanely great,
Though they increase their golden store,
And rise to wondrous height.

2 They taste of all the joys that grow,

Upon the earthly clod!

Well, they may search the creature through,

For they have ne'er a God

3 Shake off the thoughts of dying too,

And think your life your own:

But death comes hast'ning on to you,

To mow your glory down.

4 Yes, you must bow your stately head,
Away your spirit flies;

And no kind angel near your bed,
To bear it to the skies.

5 Go, now, and boast of all your stores,
And tell how bright they shine:
Your heaps of glitt'ring dust are yours,
And my Redeemer's mine.]

1

HYMN 57. L. M. Portugal. [*]
The Pleasures of a Good Conscience.

ORD, how secure, and blest, are they
Who feel the joys of pardon'd sin?
Should storms of wrath shake earth and sea,
Their minds have heav'n and peace within.
2 The day glides swiftly o'er their heads,
Made up of innocence and love:

And, soft and silent as the shades,
Their nightly minutes gently move.

3 (Quick as their thoughts their joys come on, But fly not half so fast away;

Their souls are ever bright as noon,
And calm as summer evenings be.

4 How oft they look to th' heav'nly hills,
Where groves of living pleasures grow;
And longing hopes, and cheerful smiles,
Sit undisturb'd upon their brow.)

5 They scorn to seek our golden toys;
But spend the day, and share the night,
In numb'ring o'er the richer joys,
That heav'n prepares for their delight.

6 While wretched we, like worms and moles,
Lie grovelling in the dust below:
Almighty grace renew our souls,
And we'll aspire to glory too.]

e

1

HYMN 58. C. M.

Reading. [b*]

Shortness of Life, and Goodness of God.
IME! what an empty vapour 'tis!

Tand days how swift they are!

Swift as an Indian arrow flies,

Or like a shooting star.

2 The present moments just appear,
Then slide away in haste;

That we can never say, they're here,
But only say, they're past.

3 [Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;

The moment when our lives begin,
We all begin to die.]

-4 Yet, mighty God! our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share ;
Yet with the bounties of thy grace,
Thou load'st the rolling year.

5 'Tis sov'reign mercy finds us food,
And we are cloth'd with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road,
That leads our souls above.

o 6 His goodness runs an endless round;
All glory to the Lord!

His mercy never knows a bound;
And be his Name ador'd!

7 [Thus we begin the lasting song:
And when we close our eyes,
Let the next age thy praise prolong,
Till time and nature dies.]

HYMN 59. C. M. St. Paul. Hymn 2d. [*]

1

Paradise on Earth.

Gand sends his blessings through;

LORY to God who walks the sky,

Who tells his saints of joys on high,

And gives a taste below.

2 [Glory to God, who stoops his throne,
That dust and worms may see't;

And brings a glimpse of glory down,
Around his sacred feet.]

3 When Christ with all his graces crown'd,
Sheds his kind beams abroad;

'Tis a young heav'n on earthly ground, And glory in the bud.

o 4 A blooming Paradise of joy,

In this wild desert springs;

And ev'ry sense I straight employ,
On sweet celestial things.