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957 Nearing the end.
1 A FEW more years shall roll,

A few more seasons come;
And we shall be with those that rest,

Asleep within the tomb. 2 A few more storms shall beat

On this wi rocky shore; And we shall be where tempests cease,

And surges swell no more. 3 A few more struggles here,

A few more partings o'er,
A few more toils, a few more tears,

And we shall weep no more, 4 Then, O my Lord, prepare

My soul for that blest day;
O wash me in thy precious blood,

And take my sins away!


958 Our fathers; where are they?
1 How swift the torrent rolls

That bears us to the sea,
The tide that hurries 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 God of our fathers, hear, Thou everlasting Friend!

959 Plea for sparing mercy.
1 LORD, let me know mine end,

My days, how brief their date;
That I may timely comprehend

How frail my best estate. 2 My life is but a span;

Mine age is naught with thee; And, in his highest honor, man

Is dust and vanity. 3 At thy rebuke the bloom

Of earthly beauty flies; And grief shall like a moth consume

All that delights our eyes. 4 Have pity on my fears ;

Hearken to my request; Turn not in silence from my tears,

But give the mourner rest. 5 O spare me yet, I pray;

Awhile my strength restore, Ere I am summoned hence away,

And seen on earth no more.


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960 Earthly things rain and transitory. My spirit, calm and undismayed, 1 How vain is all beneath the skies!

I shall into thy hands resign. How transient every earthly bliss ! 5 No anxious doubt, no guilty gloom, How slender all the fondest ties

Shall damp whom Jesus' presence cheers: That bind us to a world like this!

My Light, my Life, my God is come, 2 The evening cloud, the morning dew,

And glory in his face appears.
The withering grass, the fading flower,
Of earthly hopes are emblems true,
The glory of a passing hour.

962 The soul's best portion.

1 ALMIGHTY Maker of my frame, 3 But though earth's fairest blossoms die,

Teach me the measure of my days; And all beneath the skies is vain,

Teach me to know how frail I am, There is a brighter world on high,

And spend the remnant to thy praise. Beyond the reach of care and pain.

2 My days are shorter than a span; 4 Then let the hope of joys to come

A little point my life appears; Dispel our cares, and chase our fears:

How frail, at best, is dying man! If God be ours, we're traveling home,

How vain are all his hopes and fears! Though passing through a vale of tears.

DAVID E. FORD, 3 Vain his ambition, noise, and show;

Vain are the cares which rack his mind 961 A peaceful death besought.

He heaps up treasures mixed with woe,

And dies, and leaves them all behind. 1 SHRINKING from the cold hand of death, I soon shall gather up my feet;

4 O be a nobler portion mine! Shall soon resign this fleeting breath,

My God, I bow befcre thy throne; And die, my fathers' God to meet.

Earth's fleeting treasures I resign,

And fix my hope on thee alone. 2 Numbered among thy people, I

ANNE STEELE. Expect with joy thy face to see: Because thou didst for sinners die, 963 The way of all the earth. Jesus, in death remember me!

1 PASS a few swiftly fleeting years, 3 O that without a lingering groan

And all that now in bodies live I may the welcome word receive;

Shall quit, like me, the vale of tears, My body with my charge lay down,

Their righteous sentence to receive. And cease at once to work and live!

2 But all, before they hence remove, 4 Walk with me through the dreadful May mansions for themselves prepare shade,

In that eternal house above; And, certified that thou art mine,

And, O my God, shall I be there?



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964 Man frailGod eternal. 10 GOD, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast,

And our eternal home!

2 Under the shadow of thy throne

Still may we dwell secure; Sufficient is thine arm alone,

And our defense is sure.

3 Before the hills in order stood,

Or earth received her frame, From everlasting thou art God,

To endless years the same.

965 Frailty of life.
1 THEE 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 days and months increase; And every beating pulse we telí

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 traveling 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.
5 Infinite joy, or endless woe,

Attends on every breath;
And yet how unconcerned we go,

Upon the brink of death!
6 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense

To walk this dangerous road; And if our souls are hurried hence,

May they be found with God!

4 A thousand ages, in thy sight,

Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night,

Before the rising sun.

5 The busy tribes of flesh and blood,

With all their cares and fears, Are carried downward by the flood,

And lost in following years.

6 Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream

Dies at the opening day.


nyo God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come; Be thou our guide while life shall last, And our perpetual home!

TO Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

The God whom we adore,
Be glory, as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.



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966 The brink of fate.
1 Thou God of glorious majesty,
To thee, against myself, to thee,

A worm of earth, I cry;
A half-awakened child of man,
An heir of endless bliss or pain,

A sinner born to die. 2 Lo! on a narrow neck of land, 'Twixt two unbounded seas, I stand,

Secure, insensible : A point of time, a moment's space, Removes me to that heavenly place,

Or shuts me up in hell. 3 O God, mine inmost soul convert, And deeply on my thoughtful heart

Eternal things impress : Give me to feel their solemn weight, And tremble on the brink of fate,

And wake to righteousness.

4 Before me place in dread array, The pomp of that tremendous day,

When thou with clouds shalt come To judge the nations at thy bar; And tell me, Lord, shall I be there

To meet a joyful doom? 5 Be this my one great business here, With serious industry and fear

Eternal bliss to insure;
Thine utmost council to fulali,
And suffer all thy righteous will,

And to the end endure. 6 Then, Saviour, then my soul receive, Transported from this vale, to live

And reign with thee above,
Where faith is sweetly lost in sight,
And hope in full, supreme delight,

And everlasting love.


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967 Death of a friend.

Where shall I find my destined place ? 1 If death my friend and me divide,

Shall I my everlasting days Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrow chide,

With flends, or angels spend? Or frown my tears to see;

5 Nothing is worth a thought beneath, Restrained from passionate excess,

But how I may escape the death
Thou bidd'st me mourn in calm distress That never, never dies;
For them that rest in thee.

How make mine own election sure;

And, when I fail on earth, secure 2 I feel a strong immortal hope,

A mansion in the skies.
Which bears my mournful spirit up,
Beneath its mountain load;

6 Jesus, vouchsafe a pitying ray; Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain, Be thou my guide, be thou my way I soon shall find my friend again

To glorious happiness. Within the arms of God.

Ah! write the pardon on my heart,

And whensoe'er I hence depart, 3 Pass a few fleeting moments more,

Let me depart in peace. And death the blessing shall restore

Which death has snatched away;
For me thou wilt the summons send, 969 The dying Christian to his sous.
And give me back my parted friend,
In that eternal day.

1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, О quit this mortal frame;

Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, 968

O the pain, the bliss of dying!
The momentous question.

Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 1 AND am I only born to die?

And let me languish into life. And must I suddenly comply

2 Hark! they whisper: angels say, With nature's stern decree?

“Sister spirit, come away What after death for me remains ?

What is this absorbs me quiteCelestial joys, or hellish pains,

Steals my senses, shuts my sight, To all eternity!

Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? 2 How then ought I on earth to live, Tell me, my soul, can this be death? While God prolongs the kind reprieve, 3 The world recedes-it disappears; And props the house of clay?

Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears My sole concern, my single care,

With sounds seraphic ring! To watch, and tremble, and prepare Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! Against that fatal day.

O Grave, where is thy victory? 3 No room for mirth or trilling here,

O Death, where is thy sting?”

ALEXANDER POPE. For worldly hope, or worldly fear, If life so soon is gone;

Doxology. If now the Judge is at the door,

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, And all mankind must stand before

The God whom heaven's triumphant host The inexorable throne!

And saints on earth adore; 4 No matter which my thoughts employ, Be glory as in ages past, A moment's misery or joy;

And now it is, and so shall last, But 0! when both shali end,

When time shall be no more!


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