Can reach the peaceful sleeper here, 3 So Jesus slept; God's dying Son Passed thro' the grave, and blessed the bed: Then rest, dear saint, till from his throne, The morning break, and pierce the shade. 4 Break, sacred morning, from the skies! Then, clothed anew in bright array, Immortal form! to life arise, And swell the song of endless day. 596. L. M. FAWCETT. 1 THOU, God of mercy! wilt indulge 2 Yet not one anxious, murmuring thought 3 Beneath a numerous train of ills, 4 Parent, Protector, Guardian, Guide! L. M. MRS. BARBAULD. 1 AS fades the landscape from the sight, When evening shades obscure the light; So fades, alas! the joys of earth, And wither ere they scarce have birth. 3 As fades our friendship's early joy, 598. L. M. RIPPON'S COLL. 3 Beneath a numerous train of ills, 4 Parent and husband, guard and guide,- Death and Burial of Christ. WHY do we mourn departing friends, 2 Are we not tending upward too, How should we wish the hours more slow, 3 Why should we tremble to convey 'Twas there the Saviour's body lay, 4 The graves of all his saints he blest, Where should the dying members rest, 5 Thence he arose, ascending high, 6 Then let the last loud trumpet sound, 600. C. M. PRATT'S COLL A Warning from the Grave. Beneath us lie the countless dead, 2 Death rides on every passing breeze, Each season has its own disease, 3 Turn, mortal turn!-thy danger know! The earth rings hollow from below, 601. C. M. PRATT'S COLL. The House appointed for all Living. 1 HOW still and peaceful is the grave, Where life's vain tumult's past, Th' appointed house, by heaven's decree, Receives us all at last! 2 The wicked there from troubling ceaseTheir passions rage no more; And there the weary pilgrim rests 3 All, levelled by the hand of death, 602. S. M. ANONYMOUS. Uncertainty of life. 1 TO-MORROW, Lord, is thine, Waken by thine almighty power 4 One thing demands our care; 5 To Jesus may we fly. Swift as the morning light, Lest life's young golden beam should die 603. 12s. J. WILLIAMS. The Chariot. 1 THE chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll in fire, As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of his ire; Lo, self-moving it drives on its pathway of cloud, And the heavens with the burden of God-head are bow'd. 2 The glory! the glory! around him are pour'd Mighty hosts of the angels that wait on the Lord, And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there, And there all who the palm-wreaths of victory wear! 3 The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard: Lo, the depths of the stone-cover'd charnel are stirr'd! From the sea, from the earth, from the south, from the north, All the vast generations of man are come forth! 4 The judgment! the judgment! the thrones are all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met! There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on his word. 5 0 mercy! O mercy! look down from above, Great Creator, on us, thy sad children, with love! When beneath to their darkness the wicked are driven, May our justified souls find a welcome in hea ven! 604. C. M. DODDRIDGE. Death of a Minister. 1 NOW let our mourning hearts revive, And all our tears be dry; Why should those eyes be drowned in grief, That view a Saviour nigh? 2 What though the arm of conquering death Does God's own house invade? What though the prophet and the priest 3 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dustThe aged and the young The watchful eye in darkness closed, His eye still guides us-and his voice 5 Through every scene of life and death, And this shall be our children's song, |