Perish the grass, and fade the flow'r,
If firm the word of God remains.

(488.) C. M. 707.

Victory over death.
1
W THEN death appears before my sight,

In all his dire array;
Unequal to the dreadful fight,

My courage dies away.
? How shall I meet this potent foe

Whose-frown my soul alarms?
Dark horror sits upon his brow;

And vict'ry waits his arms.
3 But see my glorious Leader nigh!

Jesus, iny Saviour, lives:
Before him death's pale terrors fly,

And my faint heart revives. $ O may I meet the final hour

With fortitude divine!
Sustain'd by his almighty pow'r,

The conquest must be mine.
5 Lord! I commit my soul to thee:

Accept the sacred trust;
Receive this nobler part of me,

And watch my sleeping dust. 6 O let me join angelic lays;

And, with the blissful throng,
Resound salvation, pow'r, and praise,
In everlasting song!

L. M. 708.

Christ's Presence makes Deat} easy WHY should we start and fear to die?

What timorous worms we mortals are! Death is the gate of endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there. 2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,

Fright our approaching souls away:

Still we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prison and our clay. 3 (), if my Lord would come and meet,

My soul should stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless through death's iron gate,

Nor feel the terrors as she past. 4 Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on his breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.

S. M. 709.

Trumph over Death in Hope of the

Resurrection.
AND must this body die?

This mortal frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine

Lie mouldering in the clay?
2 Corruption, earth, and worms,

Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes

To put it on afresh.
3 God, my Redeemer, lives,

And often, from the skies,
Looks down and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.
Array'd in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape, and every face,

Look heavenly and divine.
5 These lively hopes we owe

To Jesus' dying love;
We would adore his grace below,

And sing his power above.
6 Dear Lord, accept the praise
Of these nur humble songs,

MUST

Till tunes of nobler sounds we raise

With our immortal tongues.

2. DEATH OF FRIENDS AND RELATIVES, 710. (444) C. M. 1

friends and kindred droop and die, And helpers be withdrawn; While sorrow, with a weeping eye,

Counts up our comforts gone? 2 Be thou our comfort, mighty

God!
Our helper and cur friend;
Nor leave us in this dang’rous road,

Till all our trials end. 3 O may our fect pursue

the way Our pious fathers led; While love and holy zeal obey

The counsels of the dead
. Let us be wean'd from earthly joys;

Let hope our grief dispel:
The dead in Jesus shall arise
In endless bliss to dwell,

(448.) L. M. 711

On the death of a parent.
I THOUGH nature's voice you must

obey, Think, while your swelling griefs o'erflow, That hand, which takes your joys away,

That sov’reign hand can heal your wo. 2 And, while your mournful thoughts deploré

The parent gone, remov'd the friend! With hearts resign’d, his grace adore,

On whom your nobler hopes depend. 3 Does he not bid his children come

Thro’ death's dark shades to realms of light! Yet, when he calls them to their home

Shall fund survivors mourn their flight? His word-here let your souls rely Immortal consolation gives:

486

Your heav'nly Father cannot die,

Th' eternal Friend for ever lives. 5 O be that best of friends your trust;

On his almighty arm recline;
He, when your comforts sink in dust;

Can give you comforts more divine.

712. (487.) C. M. 1

WHILE to the grave our friends are boirie, How all the tender passions mourn,

And each fond heart complains! 2 But down to earth, alas! in vain

We bend our weeping eyes,
Ah! let us leave these seats of pain,

And upwards learn to rise.
3 Hope cheerful smiles amid the gloom,

And beams a healing ray;
And guides us from the darksome tomb,

To realms of endless day. 4 To those bright courts when hope ascends,

She calms the swelling wo;
In hope we meet our happy friends,

And tears forget to flow.
5 Then let our hearts repine no more,

That earthly comfort dies; But lasting happiness explore,

And ask it from the skies.

3. DEATH OF THE YOUNG,

C. M. 713. Children dying in their Infancy in the

arms of Jesus. Matt. xix. 14. life I read, my dearest Lord!

With transport all divine; Thy image trace in every word, T'hy love in every line.

THY

2 Methinks I see a thousand charm,

Spread o'er thy lovely face, While infants in thy tender arms

Receive the smiling grace. 3 •I take these little lambs,' said he,

And lay them in my breast;
Protection they shall find in me,

In me be ever blest.
Death may the bands of life unloose,

But can't dissolve my love;
Millions of infant souls compose

The family above, 5 Their feeble frames my power shall raise,

And mould with heavenly skill:
I'll give them tongues to sing my praise,

And hands to do my will.
6 His words the happy parents hear,

And shout, with joys divine,
Dear Saviour, all we have and are

Shall be for ever thine. 714,

(446.) C. M.

On the death of a child. 1 L'

IFE is a span, a fleeting hour;

How soon the vapour Hies!
Man is a tender, transient flow'r,

That e'en in blooming dies. 9 The once lov'd form, now cold and deal,

Each mournful thought employs;
And nature weeps her comforts Aed,

And wither'd all her joys.
3 But wait the interposing gloom,

And lo! stern winter Aies;
And, drest in beauty's fairest blooin,

The flow'ry tribes arise. 4 llope looks beyond the bounds of time, When what we now deplore