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For New Year's Eve.


Yet to be revived at last
Time how swift.

At the solemn judgment-day.
2 As the wingéd arrow flies
Speedily the mark to find;

3 All our follies, Lord, forgive; As the lightning from the skies

Cleanse each heart and make us Thine;
Darts, and leaves no trace behind; Let Thy grace within us live,
Swiftly thus our fleeting days

As our future suns decline;
Bear us down life's rapid stream:

Then, when life's last eve shall come, Upward, Lord, our spirits raise,

Happy spirits, let us fly All below is but a dream.

To our everlasting home,

To our Father's house on high. 3 Thanks for mercies past receive;

Rev. Ray Palmer. (1808–) 183a. Pardon of our sins renew; Teach us henceforth how to live 1263 With eternity in view:

1 For Thy mercy and Thy grace, Bless Thy word to young and old;

Faithful through another year, Fill us with a Saviour's love;

Hear our songs of thankfulness, And when life's short tale is told,

Father and Redeemer, hear. May we dwell with Thee above.

2 In our weakness and distress, Rev. John Newton. (1725-1807.) 1979.

Rock of strength, be Thou our stay; 1262 The Close of the Year.

In the pathless wilderness I THOU who roll'st the year around,

Be our true and living way. Crowned with mercies large and free, 3 Who of us death's awful road Rich Thy gifts to us abound,

In the coming year shall tread? Warm our thanks shall rise to Thee: With Thy rod and staff, O God, Kindly to our worship bow,

Comfort Thou his dying bed. While our grateful praises swell, 4. Keep us faithful, keep us pure, That, sustained by Thee, we now

Keep us evermore Thine own; Bid the parting year farewell.

Help Thy servants to endure, 2 All its numbered days are sped,

Fit us for the promised crown. All its busy scenes are o'er,

5 So within Thy palace gate All its joys for ever fled,

We shall praise, on golden strings, All its sorrows felt no more:

Thee, the only Potentate, Mingled with th' eternal past,

Lord of lords, and King of kings. Its remembrance shall decay;

Rev. Henry Downton. (1818–) 1839. ab.

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My days are glid -ing swiftly by, And I,

a pilgrim stranger, Would?
not de- tain them, as they fly, Those hours of toil and

s danger: D. S. just be - fore, the shining shore We may al-most dis

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cloud, the marinig andlers'; } Of earthly hopes are emblems true, The glory of a pass- ing hour.


Earth and Heaten. 2 But though carth's fairest blossoms die,

And all beneath the skies is vain, There is a land, whose confines lie

Beyond the reach of care and pain.

Then let the hope of joys to come

Dispel our cares, and chase our fears: If God be ours, we're travelling home, Though passing through a vale of tears.

Rev. David Everard Ford. 1828.

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A Pilgrim's Song: 2 A few more storms shall beat

On this wild, rocky shore; And we shall be where tempests cease,

And surges swell no more. Cho. 3 A few more struggles here,

A few more partings o'er,
A few more toils, a few more tears,

And we shall wcep no more. Cho. 4 'Tis but a little while

And He shall come again,
Who died that we might live, who lives
That we with Him may reign. Cho.

Rev. Horatius Bonar. (1808–) 1857. ab.

14 One thing demands our care,

o be it still pursued;
Lest, slighted once, the season fair

Should never be renewed. 5 To Jesus may we fly,

Swift as the morning light,
Lest life's young golden beams should die
In sudden, endless night.

Rev. Philip Doddridge. (:702–1751.) 1755.

The Uncertainty of Life. 1267

James. iv. 13-15. 1 TO-MORROW, Lord, is Thine,

Lodged in Thy sovereign hand; And if its sun arise and shinc,

It shines by Thy command. 2 The present moment flies,

And bcars our life away;
O make Thy servants truly wise,

That they may live to-day. 3 Since on this wingéd hour

Eternity is hung,
Waken, by Thine almighty power,

The aged and the young.


Make Haste to live." 1 MAKE haste, O man, to live,

For thou so soon must die;
Time hurries past thee like the breeze,

llow swift its moments fly. 2 Make haste, O man, to do

Whatever must be done;
Thou hast no time to lose in cloth,

Thy day will soon be gone.
3 Up then with speed, and work;

Fling ease and self away;
This is no time for thee to sleep,

Up, watch, and work and pray. 4 Make haste, O man, to live,

Thy time is almost o'er;
O sleep not, dream not, but arise,
The Judge is at the door.

Rev. Horatius Bonar. 1857. ab

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The Brevity and Vanity of Life. 1269

13 God of our fathers, hear, Ps. xxxix.

Thou everlasting Friend, 2 My life is but a span,

While we, as on life's utmost verge,
Mine age is nought with Thee;

Our souls to Thee commend.
What is the highest boast of man
But dust and vanity?

4. Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,
3 Dumb at Thy feet I lie,
For Thou hast brought me low;

Till with them, in the land of light,

We dwell before Thy face.
Remove Thy judgments, lest I die;

Rev. Philip Doddridge 1755. ab, and alt
I faint beneath Thy blow.
4 At Thy rebuke, the bloom


Triumph over Death.
Of man's vain beauty flies;

I AND must this body die,
And grief shall, like a moth, consume This mortal frame decay?
All that delights our eyes.

And must these active limbs of mine 5 Have pity on my fears;

Lie mouldering in the clay ?
Hearken to my request;

2 God, my Redeemer, lives,
Turn not in silence from my tears,

And ever from the skies
But give the mourner rest.

Looks down and watches all my dust, 6 O spare me yet, I pray;

Till He shall bid it rise.
Awhile iny strergth restore,
Ere I am summoned hence away,

3 Arrayed in glorious grace,
And seen on earth no more.

Shall these vile bodies shine,

And every shape and every face
James Montgomery. (1771-1854.) 1822. ab. and alt.

Look heavenly and divine.
Our Fathers.
Zech. i. 5.

4 These lively hopes we owe
1 How swift the torrent rolls

To Jesus' dying love;
That bears us to the sea;

We would adore His grace below,
The tide that hurries thoughtless souls

And sing His power above.
To vast eternity.

5 Dear Lord, accept the praise
2 Our fathers, where are they,

Of these our humble songs,
With all they called their own?

Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares, With our immortal tongues.
And wealth and honor gone.

Rev. Isaac Watts. (1674-1748.) 1709. ab. and alt.

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13 Our labors done, securely laid At a Funeral.

In this our last retreat, 2 Death rides on every passing brecze,

Unheeded, o'er our silent dust
And lurks in every flower;

The storms of life shall beat.
Each season has its own disease,

4. Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane, Its peril every hour.

The vital spark shall lie; 3 Our eyes have seen the rosy light

For o'er life's wreck that spark shall risc
Of youth's soft cheek decay;

To seek its kindred sky.
And fate descend in sudden night
On manhood's middle day.

15 These ashes too, this little dust,

Our Father's care shall keep, 4. Our eyes have seen the steps of age

Till the last angel rise and break
Halt feebly to the tomb;

The long and dreary sleep.
And yet shall earth our hearts engage,

6 Then love's soft dew o'er every eye And dreams of days to come?

Shall shed its mildest rays, 5 Turn, mortal, turn, thy danger know;

And the long-silent dust shall burst Where'er thy foot can tread,

With shouts of endless praise. The earth rings hollow from below,

Henry Kirke White. (1785–1806.) 1806. And warns thee of her dead. 6 Turn, Christian, turn, thy soul apply

The Bitterness of Death is past." 1274

1 Samn. xv. 32. To truths divinely given; The bones that underneath thee lie,

1 WHEN bending o'er the brink of life

My trembling soul shall stand,
Shall live for hell or heaven.
Bp. Reginald Heber. (1783–1826.) 1812. ab. and sl. alt.

Waiting to pass death's awful flood,

Great God, at Thy command; 1273 Marching to the Tomb."

2 O thou great Source of joy supreme, I THROUGH sorrow's night and danger's path, Whose arm alone can save, Amid the deepening gloom,

Dispel the darkness that surrounds We, soldiers of an injured King,

The entrance to the grave. Are marching to the tomb.

3 Lay Thy supporting, gentle hand 2 There, when the turmoil is no more,

Beneath my sinking head, And all our powers decay,

And, with a ray of love divine, Our cold remains in solitude

Illume my dying bed. Shall sleep the years away.

Rev. William Bengo Collyer. (1782—1854.) 1812. ab

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