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5 Our eyes have seen the steps of age

Halt feebly towards the tomb; And yet shall earth our hearts engage,

And dreams of days to come ? 6 Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;

Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,

And warns thee of her dead.
7 Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply

To truths divinely given ;
The boundless fields of light on high

Remind thee of thy heaven.

C. M. 637.

DODDRIDGE. Near Approach of Salvation. 1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes,

And raise your voices high; Awake, and praise that sovereign love,

That shows salvation nigh. 2 On all the wings of time it flies;

Each moment brings it near; Then welcome each declining day!

Welcome each closing year!
3 Not many years their round shall run,

Not many mornings rise,
Ere all its glories stand revealed

To our admiring eyes. 4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course;

Ye mortal powers, decay;
Fast as ye bring the night of death,

Ye bring eternal day.

1

S. M. 638. DODDRIDGE

Tracing the Steps of the Pious Dead.
How swift the torrent rolls,

That bears us to the sea !
The tide that bears our thoughtless souls

To vast eternity!

2

Our fathers, where are they,

With all they call their own? Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,

And wealth and honor, gone.

3

God of our fathers! hear;
Thou everlasting Friend!
While we, as on life's utmost verge,

Our souls to thee commend.

4

Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,
Till with them, in the land of light,

We dwell before thy face.

L. M.

639.

BARBAULD.

Blessedness of the Righteous in Death.
1 How blest the righteous when he dies!

When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes!

How gently heaves the 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 A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys ;
And naught disturbs that peace profound,

Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,

Where lights and shades alternate dwell; How bright the unchanging morn appears! Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!

5 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay,

Light from its load the spirit flies,
While heaven and earth combine to say,
“ How blest the righteous when he dies!"

C. M.

640. Watts. " Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord." 1 Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims

For all the pious dead :-
Sweet is the savor of their names,

And soft their sleeping bed.
2 They sleep in Jesus, and are blessed ;

How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins released,

And freed from every
3 Far from this world of toil and strife,

They 're present with the Lord; The labors of their mortal life

End in a large reward.

snare.

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641.

L. P. M.

Watts. Life, Death, and Resurrection. i ETERNAL God! how frail is man! Few are the hours, and short the span, Between the cradle and the

grave : Who can prolong his vital breath? Who from the bold demands of death

Hath skill to fly, or power to save ? 2 But let no murmuring heart complain, That, therefore, man is made in vain,

Nor the Creator's grace distrust; For though his servants, day by day, Go to their graves, and turn to clay,

A bright reward awaits the just.
3 Jesus hath made thy purpose known,
A new and better life hath shown,

And we the glorious tidings hear:
For ever blessed be the Lord,
That we can read his holy word,

And find a resurrection there.

L. M.

642.

MRS. MACKAY.

Sleeping in Jesus.

1 Asleep in Jesus! blessed sleep!

From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the dread of foes.
2 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest,

Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woes, shall dim that hour
Which manifests the Saviour's power.

3 Asleep in Jesus! time nor space

Debars this precious hiding-place;
On Indian plains, or Lapland snow's,

Believers find the same repose.
4 Asleep in Jesus! far from thee

Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.

L.M.
643.

NORTON. .
Blessedness of the Pious Dead.
i O stay thy tears; for they are blest,

Whose days are past, whose toil is done : Here midnight care disturbs our rest;

Here sorrow dims the noonday sun. 2 How blest are they whose transient years

Pass like an evening meteor's flight!
Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears;

Whose course is short, unclouded, bright. 3 O cheerless were our lengthened way;

But heaven's own light dispels the gloom, Streams downward from eternal day,

And casts a glory round the tomb. 4 O stay thy tears; the blest above

Have hailed a spirit's heavenly birth,
And sung a song of joy and love;
Then why should anguish reign on earth ?

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