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493 Rev, John Bacchus Dykes. 1861.

VOX ANGELICA. 11, 10, 11, 10, 9, 1o.

1. Go to the grave in all thy glo-ri -ous prime, In full ac - tiv - i - ty of zeal and power;

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For a Minister cut off in his Usefulness.
2 Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease;

Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest-task is done;
Come from the heat of battle, and in peace,

Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won. Cho.
3 Go to the grave, which, faithful to its trust,

The germ of immortality shall keep;
While, safe as watched by cherubim, thy dust

Shall to the judgment-day in Jesus sleep. Cho.
4 Go to the grave, for there thy Saviour lay

In death's embraces, ere He rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky. Cho.

James Montgomery. (1771—1854.) 1825. ab. and Cho. added. 1330

The Pilgrims of the Night."
1 HARK, hark, my soul: angelic songs are swelling

O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore;
How sweet the truth those blesséd strains are telling

Of that new life when sin shall be no more.
Chorus. Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.
2 Angels, sing on, your faithful watches keeping,

Sing sweet fragments of the songs above;
Till morning's joy shall end the night of weeping,
And life's long shadows break in cloudless love. Cho.

Rev. Frederick William Faber. (1814–1863.) 1849. ab, and alt.


Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. (1809–1847.)


of God, well done, Rest from thy loved em -ploy; The bat- tle fought, the

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1331 On the Death of a Minister. 2 At midnight came the cry,

To meet thy God prepare !"
He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;

Then, strong in faith and prayer,
His spirit with a bound

Left its encumbering clay;
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,

A darkened ruin lay.
3 The pains of death are past,

Labor and sorrow cease,
And, life's long warfare closed at last,

His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ, well done,

Praise be thy new employ;
And, while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour's joy.

James Montgomery. (1771-1854.) 1825. ab. 1332

Non, ce n'est pas mourir." i It is not death to die,

To leave this weary road,
And, 'midst the brotherhood on high,

To be at home with God.
It is not death to close

The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake in glorious repose,

To spend eternal years.

1333 The Death of the Righteous.
I O FOR the death of those

Who slumber in the Lord:
O be like theirs my last repose,

Like theirs my last reward.
Their bodies, in the ground,

In silent hope niay lie,
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound

Shall call them to the sky. 2 Their ransomed spirits soar

On wings of faith and love,
To meet the Saviour they adore,

And reign with Him above.
With us their names shall live

Through long succeeding years,
Embalmed with all our hearts can give,
Our praises and our tears.

Rev. Samuel Francis Smith. (1808–) 1831

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Life from the dead is in that word, 'Tis im - mor - tal · i · ty.



14 Ye dwellers in the dust, For ever with the Lord."

Awake, come forth and sing; 2 Here in the body pent,

Sharp has your frost of winter been, Absent from Him I roam,

But bright shall be your spring.
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day's march nearer home.

15 ’T was sown in weakness here,

'T will then be raised in power: 3 My Father's house on high,

That which was sown an earthly seed, Home of my soul, how near,

Shall rise a heavenly flower. At times, to faith's foreseeing eye,

Rev. Horatius Bonar. (1808-) 1857. ab. Thy golden gates appear. 4 Ah, then my spirit faints

Our House above. To reach the land I love,

1 We have a house above, The bright inheritance of saints,

Not made with mortal hands; Jerusalem above.

And firm as our Redeemer's love, 5. “For ever with the Lord:”

That heavenly fabric stands. Father, if 'tis Thy will,

2 It stands securely high, The promise of that faithful word

Indissolubly sure; E'en here to me fulfil.

Our glorious mansion in the sky James Montgomery. 1835. ab. Shall evermore endure. 1335 The Flesh resting in Hope.

3 Beneath our earthly load i Rest for the toiling hand,

We labor now and groan, Rest for the anxious brow,

And hasten toward that house of God, Rest for the weary, way-sore feet,

And struggle to be gone. Rest from all labor now.

14 Full of immortal hope, 2 Rest for the fevered brain,

We urge the restless strife,
Rest for the throbbing eye;

And hasten to be swallowed up
Through these parched lips of thine no more Of everlasting life.
Shall pass the moan or sigh.

5 Thy grace with glory crown, 3 Soon shall the trump of God

Who hast the earnest given, Give out the welcome sound,

And then triumphantly come down That shakes thy silent chamber-walls, And take us up to heaven.

And breaks the turf-sealed ground. Rev. Charles Wesley 1708–1788.) 1759. ab. and sl ak

TAMWORTH. 8, 7, 4.

Charles Lockhart. (-1816.)


- { Rise

, my soul, from sleep SO'er the dis - tant mountains break-ing,

Comes the reddening dawn of day; ?
Rise, and sing, and watch, and pray:1


wak - ing,

'Tis thy Sav - iour, 'Tis thy Sav - iour,

On His bright, re- turn - ing way.

Surely I come quickly."

2 Full of joyful expectation, 1337 Rev. xxii. 20.

Saints, behold the Judge appear; 2 O Thou long-expected, weary

Truth and justice go before Him; Waits my anxious soul for Thee;

Now the royal sentence hear: Life is dark, and earth is dreary

Hallelujah! Where Thy light I do not see:

Welcome, welcome, Judge divine. O my Saviour, When wilt Thou return to me?

3 Come, ye blesséd of my Father,

Enter into life and joy; 3 Long, too long, in sin and sadness,

Banish all your fears and sorrows; Far away from Thee I pine ;

Endless praise be your employ:" When, O when, shall I the gladness

Of Thy Spirit feel in mine?

Welcome, welcome, to the skies.
O my Saviour,

Rev. John Cennick. (1719-1755.) 1749. ab When shall I be wholly Thine? 4 Nearer is my soul's salvation,

1339 The Judgment-Trumpet. Spent the night, the day at hand;

I HARK, the judgment-trumpet sounding Keep me in my lowly station,

Rends the skies and shakes the poles; Watching for Thee, till I stand,

Lo, the day, with wrath abounding, O my Saviour,

Breaks upon astonished souls: In Thy bright and promised land.

Every creature 5 With my lamp well-trimmed and burning, Now the awful Judge beholds. Swift to hear, and slow to roam,

2 Jesus, Captain of salvation, Watching for Thy glad returning

Leads His armies down the skies ; To restore me to my home,

Every kindred, tribe and nation,
Come, my Saviour,

From the sleep of death, arise:
O my Saviour, quickly come.

Heaven's loud summons Rev. John Samuel Bewley Monsell. (1811–) 1863.

Fills the world with dread surprise. 1338 Dies iræ, dies illa."

3. Zion's King, His throne ascending, I Lo, He cometh: countless trumpets

Calls His saints before His face; Blow to raise the sleeping dead;

Crowns, with glory never-ending,
Midst ten thousand saints and angels, All the children of His grace:
See their great exalted Head:

Heaven shall echo;

Songs of triumph fill the place. Welcome, welcome, Son of God. Rev. Nathan Sidney Smith Beman. (1786—1871.) 1832. ad

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Hal - le - lu jah! Hal - le · lu - jah! God ap- pears on earth to


1340 Christ's Second Coming.
2 Every eye shall now behold Him,

Robed in dreadful majesty;
Those who set at nought and sold Him,
Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,

Deeply wailing, Shall the true Messiah see. 3 Every island, sea, and mountain,

Heaven and earth, shall flee away; All who hate Him must, confounded, Hear the trump proclaim the day;

Come to judgment, Come to judgment, come away. 4 Now redemption, long expected,

See in solemn pomp appear: All His saints, by men rejected, Now shall meet Him in the air:

Hallelujah! See the day of God appear. 5 Yea, amen; let all adore Thee,

High on Thine eternal throne:
Saviour, take the power and glory;
Claim the kingdom for Thine own:

O come quickly,
Hallelujah! come, Lord, come.

Rev. Charles Wesley. (1708—1788.) 1758.
Rev. Martin Madan. (1720-1790.) 1760. ab

1341 The Day of Judgment.
1 Day of judgment, day of wonders,

Hark, the trumpet's awful sound,
Louder than a thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round:

How the summons
Will the sinner's heart confound.
2 See the Judge, our nature wearing,

Clothed in majesty divine: You who long for His appearing Then shall say, “This God is mine:"

Gracious Saviour,
Own me in that day for Thine.
3 At His call the dead awaken,

Rise to life from earth and sea;
All the powers of nature, shaken
By His looks, prepare to flee;

Careless sinner,
What will then become of thee?
4 But to those who have confesséd,

Loved and served the Lord below,
He will say, “Come near, ye blesséd,
See the kingdom I bestow;

You for ever
Shall My love and glory know."

Rev. John Newton. (1725-1807.) 1779 ab.

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