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4 Encompassed by a throng,
On numbers they depend ;
And miss a happy end.
“Strive for the heavenly gate; Many will call upon the Lord,
And find their cries too late." 6 Oh hear the gospel call,
And enter while you may ;
Yet none are safe but they. 7 Lord, open sinners' eyes,
Their awful state to see;
To thee for safety flee. 215
“Why will ye die?" 1 INNERS, turn, why will ye die?
Maker asks you why;
Will ye cross his love, and die ? 2 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God your Saviour asks you why ;
Will ye slight his grace, and die ? 3 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God the Spirit asks you why ;
to embrace his love:
Frailty and Thoughtlessness. C.M. 1 Н.
OW short and hasty is our life!
How vast our soul's affairs ! Yet senselessly vain mortals strive
To lavish out their years. 2 Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay; Just like a story or a song,
We pass our lives away. 3 God, from on high, invites us home,
But we march heedless on, And ever hastening to the tomb,
Stoop downward as we run.
Who slight the joys above!
Who break such cords of love!
And lift our thoughts on high, That we may end this mortal race, And see salvation nigh.
Watts. 217 The Danger of Delay.
73. 1 HASTEN, sinner, to be wise ;
Stay not for the morrow's sun : Wisdom if you still despise,
Harder is it to be won. 2 Hasten mercy to implore;
Stay not for the morrow's sun : Lest thy season should be o’er,
Ere this evening's course be run. 3 Hasten, sinner, to return;
Stay not for the morrow's sun ; Lest thy lamp should cease to burn,
Ere salvation's work is done. 4 Hasten, sinner, to be bless'd;
Stay not for the morrow's sun; Lest perdition thee arrest,
Ere the morrow is begun. 5 Lord, do thou the sinner turn;
Rouse him from his senseless state ;
Let him not thy counsel spurn,
And lament his choice too late. 218 The Uncertainty of Life.
S. M. 1 TO: MORROW, Lord, is thine,
Lodged in thy sovereign hand; And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by thy command. 2 The present moment flies,
And bears our life away;
That they may live to-day. 3 Since on this winged hour
Eternity is hung,
The aged and the young.
Oh, be it now pursued ;
Should never be renewed. 5 To Jesus may we fly,
Swift as the morning light,
In sudden, endless night. Doddridge. 219 Repentance commanded. Acts xvii. 30. C. M. 1 REPENT, (the voice celestial cries,)
) The wretch that scorns the mandate dies,
And meets a fiery day. 2 Ye sinners, in his presence bow,
And all your guilt confess; Accept the offered Saviour now,
Nor trifle with his grace.
And call you to his bar ;
And turns to vengeance there. 4 Amazing love, that yet will call,
And yet prolong our days! Our hearts, subdued by goodness, fall, And weep and love and praise. Doddridge.
220 Youth and Judgment. Eccl. xi. 9. L.M.
E sons of Adam, vain and young,
Indulge your eyes, indulge your tongue, Taste the delights your souls
desire, And give a loose to all your fire; 2 Pursue the pleasures you design,
And cheer your hearts with songs and wine; Enjoy the day of mirth ; but know
There is a day of judgment too.
His book records your secret faults;
Must all appear before the sun.
Should strike your hearts with terror through; How will ye stand before his face,
Or answer for his injured grace ?
From these alluring vanities ;
Awake their souls to fear the Lord. Watts. 221 Sinners warned and entreated.
C.M 1 SINNERS, the
voice of God regard ;
From sin's destructive way.
You live devoid of peace;
Deprive your souls of ease.
Why will you persevere ?
Shut up in black despair ?
Of sin and folly go ?
To reap eternal wo!
Through his abounding grace ;
His mercy will the guilt forgive
Of those that seek his face.
He pardons like a God;
Through a Redeemer's blood. Fawcett. 222 Advice to Youth. Eccl. xii. 1, 7. L. M. 1
TOW, in the heat of youthful blood,
Behold the months come hastening on,
When you shall say—“My joys are gone.” 2 Behold, the aged sinner goes,
Laden with guilt and heavy woes,
With endless curses on his head. 3 The dust returns to dust again ;
The soul, in agonies of pain,
But hears her doom, and sinks to hell. 4 Eternal King, I fear thy name;
Teach me to know how frail I am ;
Watts. 223 The Scoffer's Mistake.
C. M. 1 YE TE scoffers, your expiring breath
Consigns your souls to chains ; By the last agonies of death
Sent down to fiercer pains. 2 When iron slumbers bind your flesh,
With strange surprise you'll find Immortal vigor spring afresh,
And tortures wake the mind. 3 Then you 'll confess the frightful names
Of plagues you scorned before, No more appear like idle dreams,
Like foolish tales no more. 4 Then will you curse that fatal day,
(With flames upon your tongues,) When you exchanged your souls away For vanity and songs.