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3. Awake, and breathe the air

Of the celestial clime!
Awaké to love which knows no change,

Thou who hast done with time!
4. Awake, lift up thine eyes!

See, all heaven's host appears!
And be thou glad exceedingly-

Thou who hast done with tears!

5. Ascend ! thou art not now

With those of mortal birth;
The living God hath touched thy lips,
Thou who hast done with earth !

MARY HOWITT,

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1. SERVANT of God, well done!

Thy glorious warfare 's past;
The battle 's fought, the race is won,

And thou art crowned at last.
2. In condescending love,

Thy ceaseless prayer He heard;
And bade thee suddenly remove

To thy complete reward.
3. With saints enthroned on high,

Thou dost thy Lord proclaim,
And still to God salvation cry

Salvation to the Lamb !
4. O happy, happy soul!

In ecstacies of praise,
Long as eternal ages roll,

Thou seest thy Saviour's face.
5. Redeemed from earth and pain,

Ah! when shall we ascend,
And all in Jesus' presence reign

With our translated friend?

C. WESLEY.

1139.

8. M.
1. SERVANT of God, well done!

Rest from thy loved employ ;
The battle fought, the victory won,

Enter thy Master's joy.
2. The voice at midnight came;

He started up to hear;
A mortal arrow pierced his frame,

He fell, but felt no fear.
3. Tranquil amid alarms,

It found him on the field,
A veteran slumbering on his arms,

Beneath his red-cross shield.
4. At midnight came the cry,

“To meet thy God, prepare!" He woke---and caught his Captain's eye;

Then, strong in faith and prayer,
5. His spirit, with a bound,

Left its encumbering clay ;
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,

A darkened ruin lay.
6. The pains of death are past,

Labor and sorrow cease;
And life's long warfare closed at last,

His soul is found in peace.

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1. In expectation sweet,

We wait, and sing, and pray,
Till Christ's triumphal car we meet,

And see an endless day.
2. He comes ! the Conqueror comes !

Death falls beneath His sword;
The joyful prisoners burst their tombs,

And rise to meet their Lord.

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3. The trumpet sounds-Awake!

Ye dead to judgment come !
The pillars of creation shake,

While hell receives her doom. 4. Thrice happy morn for those Who love the

ways

of

peace; No night of sorrow e er shall close,

Or shade their perfect bliss.

1141.

S. M.
1. To-MORROW, Lord, is Thine,

Lodged in Thy sovereign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,

It shines by Thy command.
2. The present moment flies,
And bears our life

away;
O, make Thy servants truly wise,

That they may live to-day.
3. Since on this fleeting hour

Eternity is hung,
Awake, by Thine almighty power,

The aged and the young.
4. One thing demands our care;

O, be that still pursued,
Lest, slighted once, the season fair

Should never be renewed.

1142,

S. M.
1. And must this body die ?

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

Lie mold’ring 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.

4. Arrayed 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 our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sounds we raise

With our immortal tongues.

WATTS.

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1. And will the Judge descend,

And must the dead arise ?
And not a single soul escape

His all-discerning eyes?
2. How will my heart endure

The terrors of that day,
When earth and heaven before His face

Astonished shrink away?
3. But ere the trumpet shakes

The mansions of the dead,
Hark, from the Gospel's cheering sound

What joyful tidings spread;
4. Ye sinners, seek His grace

Whose wrath ye can not bear;
Fly to the shelter of His cross,

And find salvation there.

5. So shall that curse remove.

By which the Saviour bled;
And the last awful day shall pour

His blessings on your head.

DODDRIDGE.

1144.

S. M.

1. BENEATH the star-lit arch,

Along the hallowed ground,
I see cherubic armies march,

A camp of fire around.
2. All that I am, have been,

All that I yet may be,
He sees as He hath ever seen,

And shall forever see.
3. How can I meet His eyes!

Mine on the cross I cast,
And own my life a Saviour's prize,

Mercy from first to last.
4. Then shall I upward fly;

That resurrection word
Shall be my shout of victory,

“Forever with the Lord.”

MONTGOMERY.

1145.

S. M.
1. 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 called their own?
Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,

And wealth and honor, gone!
3. And where the fathers lie,

Must all the children dwell ?
Nor other heritage possess,

But such a gloomy cell?

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