But when we see our Saviour here, 3 A hope that's so divine May trials well endure; May cleanse our souls from sense and sin, As Christ the Lord is pure. 214. Grace perfected in Glory. 1 How rich thy favours, God of grace! 2 God to eternal glory calls, And shows the wondrous way 3 The songs of everlasting years 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, 2 There everlasting spring abides, 3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, 4 But timorous mortals start and shrink, 5 Oh! could we make our doubts remove, 6 Could we but stand, as Moses stood, Not Jordan's streams, nor death's cold flood, 216. Hope and Comfort of the dying Christian. 1 HARK!-to the gospel's cheering voice; 2 For ever blessed are the dead That in the Lord shall die; His servants on a dying bed 3 They leave their burdens here behind, Labour will end when life's resign'd, 4 They'll toil no more for daily bread, 5 But vast rewards shall recompense And power and love shall banish thence 217. 'Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord. Rev. xiv. 3. 1 HEAR what the voice from heaven proclaims, 2 They die in Jesus and are blest : How calm their slumbers are! From suffering and from sin releas'd, And freed from every snare. Gone from this world of toil and strife, The labours of their mortal life End in a large reward. 218. 'This mortal shall put on immortality.' 1 WHEN the last trumpet's awful voice The opening graves shall yield their charge, 2 Those bodies that corrupted fell, And mortal forms shall spring to life, 3 Let faith lift up her joyful voice, O grave! where is thy triumph now? 4 Our God-his name be ever blest!- And makes us conquerors when we die, 5 Then steadfast let us still remain, 219. Our Labour in the Lord shall not be in vain. 1 Ir we the Saviour's laws obey, 2 The day will come when we shall hear O'er death triumphant wing our way To joys that never die. 3 Thanks be to God's redeeming grace, 4 Then steadfast in his work abide, Ye know your labour's not in vain, 220. The Future Recompense of Present Trials. THE Man who was crowned with thorns, Now blessed for ever is made, And God hath rewarded his pain; Now glory hath crowned his head; 2 By faith we contemplate his joy, Our places he's gone to prepare : 3 The good to his followers done, (For so hath his gospel declar'd) |