S. C. HANCOCK.

1 There is an hour when I must part
With all I hold most dear;

And life, with its best hopes, will then
As nothingness appear.

2 There is an hour when I must sink
Beneath the stroke of death;
And yield to him who gave it first,
My struggling vital breath.

3 There is an hour when I must stand
In resurrection state;

And all my sins before me come,
However small or great.

4 O Saviour, then, in all my need
Be near, be near to me :

And let my soul, by steadfast faith,
Find peace and life in thee.

Then dust

1 When the last trumpet's awful voice This rending earth shall shake; When opening graves shall yield their |: Then dust to life shall wake. :|| [charge, 2 Those bodies that corrupted fell Shall incorrupt arise,

And mortal forms shall spring to life ||: Immortal in the skies. :||

3 Behold, what heavenly prophets sung, Is now at last fulfilled;

And death yields up his ancient reign, ||: And, vanquished, quits the field. :||

4 Let faith exalt her joyful voice, And now in triumph sing

O grave, where is thy victory? ||: And where, O death, thy sting? :|| 815

W. CAMERON.

1 All nature dies, and lives again :

The flowers, that paint the field;

The trees, that crown the mountain's brow

||: And boughs and blossoms yield. :||

817

JERUSALEM. C. M.

C. F. ROPer.

4

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Our hearts the mournful tribute pay Which pity must demand.

Shall make his children way;

From the cold tomb the slumb'rers spring, And shine in endless day.