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And join with the triumphant saints How shall I appear!"

C. M.

That sing Jehovah's praise. 1 WHEN rising from the bed of death, O'erwhelmed with guilt and fear,

6 My knowledge of that life is small;

The eye of faith is dim;
I see my Maker face to face,
O how shall I appear?

But it's enough that Christ knows all,

And I shall be with Him. 2 If yet while pardon may be found,

Rev. Richard Baxter. (1615–1689.) 1681. ab. and alt. And mercy may be sought,

Prepared to die.

C. M. My heart with inward horror shrinks, 1277

2 Tim. iv. 6, 7, 18. And trembles at the thought;

I DEATH may dissolve my body now, 3 When Thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclosed And bear my spirit home; In majesty severe,

Why do my minutes move so slow, And sit in judgment on my soul,

Nor my salvation come? O how shall I appear?

2 With heavenly weapons, I have fought

The battles of the Lord; 4 But Thou hast told the troubled soul, Who does her sins lament,

Finished my course, and kept the faith,

And wait the sure reward.
The timely tribute of her tears
Shall endless woe prevent.

3 Jesus, the Lord, shall guard me safe

From every ill design; 5 Then see the sorrows of my heart,

And to His heavenly kingdom take Ere yet it be too late,

This feeble soul of mine. And add my Saviour's dying groans

4. God is my everlasting aid, To give those sorrows weight.

And hell shall rage in vain; 6 For never shall my soul despair

To Him be highest glory paid,
Her pardon to procure,

And endless praise. Amen!
Who knows Thine only Son has died

Rev. Isaac Watts. (1674-1748.) 1709. ab.
To make that pardon sure.
Joseph Addison. (1672–1719.) 1712. sl. alt.
. ) . . 1278

Dying Hymn.

C. M.

I EARTH, with its dark and dreadful ills, 1276 To live is Christ, and to die is Gain." C. M.

Recedes and fades away: i LORD, it belongs not to my care

Lift up your heads, ye heavenly hills, Whether I die or live;

Ye gates of death give way. To love and serve Thee is my share,

2 My soul is full of whispered song, And this Thy grace must give.

My blindness is my sight;

The shadows that I feared so long 2 If life be long, I will be glad

Are all alive with light.
That I may long obey;

3 The while my pulses faintly beat, If short, yet why should I be sad

My faith doth so abound,
To soar to endless day?

I feel grow firm beneath my feet 3 Christ leads me through no darker rooms

The green, immortal ground.
Than He went through before;

4. That faith to me a courage gives, He that unto God's kingdom comes

Low as the grave to go:
Must enter by this door.

I know that my Redeemer lives, , Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet

That I shall live, I know,
Thy blesséd face to see;

5 The palace walls I almost see For, if Thy work on earth be sweet,

Where dwells my Lord and King: What will Thy glory be?

O grave, where is thy victory, 5 Then I shall end my sad complaints,

O death, where is thy sting!
And weary sinful days,

Miss Alice Cary. (1820-1871.) 1870.

Phil. i. 21.

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3 O Lord, look down, O Lord, forgive, In Sickness.

O help me from on high; 2 Sweet to look inward, and attend

Since no man to himself must live,
The whispers of His love;

Nor to himself can die.
Sweet to look upward to the place
Where Jesus pleads above;

4 And when, through feebleness or pain, 3 Sweet to look back, and see my name

My thoughts are far from Thee, In life's fair book set down;

Though I forget Thee, Saviour, then,

O yet forget not me.
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own;

5 In Him that bore our griefs and pains 4 Sweet on His faithfulness to rest,

Shall they that suffer boast,
Whose love can never end;

Who with the Father ever reigns, Sweet on His covenant of grace

And with the Holy Ghost.
For all things to depend;

Rev. John Mason Neale. (1818-- 1866.) 1854. ab 5 Sweet, in the confidence of faith, 1281

Hymn by the Sick-bed of a Mother,
To trust His firm decrees;

O Thou, who, in the olive shade, Sweet to lie passive in His hands,

When the dark hour came on,
And know no will but His;

Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid, 6 Sweet to rejoice in lively hope,

Strengthen Thy suffering Son;
That, when my change shall come,
Angels will hover round my bed,

2 O by the anguish of that night,
And waft my spirit home.

Send us down blest relief; Rev. Augustus Montague Toplady. (1740-1778.) 1776. ab.

Or to the chastened let Thy might

Hallow this whelming grief. 1280

In Sickness.
Ps. lxxxvii. 11, 12. Phil. i. 23.

3 And Thou, that, when the starry sky I O THOU, Who lov'st to send relief

Saw the dread strife begun,
In time of our distress,

Didst teach adoring faith to cry,
Because Thyself didst bear our grief, Father, Thy will be done;
And feel our sicknesses;

4 By Thy meek Spirit, Thou, of all 2 Thy will be done, I still would say,

That e'er have mourned the chief, Whate'er that will may be;

Blest Saviour, if the stroke must fall, And let this trial, day by day,

Hallow this whelming grief.
Fulfil its end in me.

Mrs. Felicia Dorothea Hemans. (1794–1835.) 1834. alt

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9 If, when de-ceived and wound.ed here, We could not

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"He healeth the broken in Heart."

4 Gently the passing spirit fied,
Ps. cxlvii. 3.

Sustained by grace divine: 2 But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,

O may such grace on me be shed, Which, like the plants that throw

And make my end like thine. Their fragrance from the wounded part,

Rev. Thomas Dalc. (1797–1870.) 1818. Breathes sweetness on our woe. 3 When joy no longer soothes or cheers,

1284 Death of the Righteous. And e'en the hope that threw I BEHOLD the western evening light! A moment's sparkle o'er our tears

It melts in deepening gloom: Is dimmed and vanished too;

So calmly Christians sink away, 4 O who would bear life's stormy doom,

Descending to the tomb. Did not Thy wing of love

2 The wind breathes low; the withering leaf Come, brightly wafting through the gloom

Scarce whispers from the tree: Our peace-branch from above?

So gently flows the parting breath, 5 Then sorrow, touched by Thee,grows bright When good men cease to be. With more than rapture's ray;

3 How beautiful on all the hills As darkness shows us worlds of light

The crimson light is shed ! We never saw by day.

'Tis like the peace the Christian gives Thomas Moore. (1779—1852.) 1816. ab.

To mourners round his bed. 1283

Weep not."
Luke vii. 13.

4 How mildly on the wandering cloud 1 DEAR as thou wert, and justly dear,

The sunset beam is cast ! We will not weep for thee:

'Tis like the memory left behind One thought shall check the starting tear,

When loved ones breathe their last. It is, that thou art free.

5 And now above the dews of night 2 And thus shall faith's consoling power

The yellow star appears: The tears of love restrain:

So faith springs in the hearts of those O who that saw thy parting hour,

Whose eyes are bathed in tears.
Could wish thee back again.

6 But soon the morning's happier light 3 Triumphant in thy closing eye

Its glory shall restore;
The hope of glory shone;

And eyclids that are scaled in death Joy breathed in thine expiring sigh,

Shall wake to close no more.
To think the fight was won.

Rev. William Bourn Oliver Peabody. (:799–1847.) 1823.

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Longing for Rest. 1285

1286 "I would not live alway."

Ps. lv. 2 I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin, 1 O HAD I, my Saviour, the wings of a dove,

Temptation without and corruption within; How soon would I soar to Thy presence aE'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with

bove; fears,

How soon would I fee where the weary have And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent rest, tears.

And hide all my cares in Thy sheltering

3 I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb;
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its 2 I Autter, I struggle, I pant to get free;

I feel me a captive while banished from
There sweet be my rest, till He bid me arise, Thee:
To hailHim in triumph descending the skies. A pilgrim and stranger, the desert I roam,

Andlook on to heaven, and long to be home.
4 Who, who would live alway, away from his

3 Ah, there the wild tempest for ever shall Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, cease; Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the No billow shall ruffle that haven of peace; bright plains,

Temptation and trouble alike shall depart, And the noontide of glory eternally reigns? All tears from the eye, and all sin from the

heart. 5 Where the saints of all agesin harmony meet, Their Saviour and brethren transported to 4 Soon, soon may this Eden of promise be greet;

mine; While the anthems of rapture unceasingly Rise, bright Sun of glory, no more to deroll,

cline: And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the Thylight, yet unrisen, the wildernesscheers; soul.

O what will it be when the fulness appears? Rev. William Augustus Muhlenberg. (1796) 1823.

Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. (1793—1847.) 1834

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bend my way, Part we here at break of day, Part we here

at break of day.

Gen. xxxii. 26.

Parting Words. 1287

Life is like a dying taper,

O my soul, why wish to stay? 2 Let me go, I may not tarry,

Why not spread Thy wings, and fly
Wrestling thus with doubts and fears;

Straight to yonder world of joy?
Angels wait my soul to carry,

Where my risen Lord appears; 2 See that glory, how resplendent!
Friends and kindred, weep not so,

Brighter far than fancy paints;
If you love me, let me go.

There, in majesty transcendent,
3 'T is not darkness gathering round me, Jesus reigns, the King of saints:

Which withdraws me from your sight; Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Walls of Alesh no more can bound me, Straight to yonder world of joy.

But, translated into light,
Like the lark on mounting wing,

3 Joyful crowds, His throne surrounding, Though unseen you hear me sing.

Sing with rapture of His love;

Through the heavens His praises sounding, + Heaven's broad day hath o'er me broken,

Filling all the courts above:
Far beyond earth's span of sky;

Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Am I dead?—nay, by this token,

Straight to yonder world of joy.
Know that I have ceased to die;
Would you solve the mystery,

4 Go, and share His people's glory, Come up hither, come and see.

Midst the ransomed crowd appear;
James Montgomery. (1771–1854.) 1837. ab.

Thine a joyful, wondrous story,
" It is even a Vapor."

One that angels love to hear:
James iv. 14.

Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly 1 What is life? 'Tis but a vapor,

Straight to yonder world of joy.
Soon it vanishes away;

Rev. Thomas Kelly. (1769–1855.) 1809.

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