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But when we see our Saviour here,
May trials well endure; May cleanse our souls from sense and sin,
Ås Christ the Lord is pure.
How various, how divine !
2 God to eternal glory calls,
And shows the wondrous way
That mercy shall attend, Which leads, through sufferings of an hour, To joys that never end,
215. The Hope of Heaven a Support in Death
1 There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
2 'T'here everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers : Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dress'd in living green; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan roll'd between.
To cross this narrow sea ;
And fear to launch away.
Oh! could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy doubts that rise ; And view the Canaan that we love, With unbeclouded eyes :
6 Could we but stand, as Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er; Not Jordan's streams, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.
216. Hope and Comfort of the dying Christian.
1 HARK !-to the gospel's cheering voice;
Lend ye a listening ear;
That in the Lord shall die ;
And bid farewel to woe;
Their rest no period know.
No more of sin complain;
Their faithful service here :
Rev. xiv. 3.
1 Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims,
For all the pious dead :
How calm their slumbers are !
And freed from every snare.
They rest in thee, O Lord !
This rending earth shall shake, The opening graves shall yield their charge,
And dust to life awake.
Shall uncorrupted rise ;
Let hope exulting sing : . O grave! where is thy triumph now? o death! where is thy sting?'
Disarms that foe we dread,
Though dangers rise around; And in the work prescrib'd by God
Yet more and more abound.
219. Our Labour in the Lord shall not be in vain.
Our happiness is sure :
And rise to bliss on high;
To joys that never die.
3 Thanks be to God's redeeming grace, That sav'd our sinful mortal race,
Through Christ our glorious Head; Who took the sting of death away, Destroy'd the grave's terrific sway,
And wide his triumph spread.
Then steadfast in his work abide,
Abounding in his love :
The Future Recompense of Present Trials.
Whom sinners agreed to deride,
And for us on Calvary died,
And God hath rewarded his pain; Now glory hath crowned his head ; Heaven sings of the Lamb that was slain.
2 By faith we contemplate his joy,
And hope in due season to share ; For, as our forerunner on high,
Our places he's gone to prepare : Then let us look forward to this,
And joyfully take up our cross ; His servants shall be where he is, And all that we lose is but dross.
3 The good to his followers done,
(For so hath his gospel declar'd)