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HYMN 622, C. M. 622

Prayer in View of Death. af 1 WHEN, bending o'er the brink of life,

soul
Waiting to pass death's awful flood,

Great God! at thy command ;-
2 When every long-loved scene of life

Stands ready to depart;
When the last sigh, that shakes the frame,

Shall rend this bursting heart;-
3 O thou great Source of joy supreme!

Whose arm alone can save,
Dispel the darkness, that surrounds

The entrance to the grave.
4 Lay thy supporting, gentle hand

Beneath iny sinking head ;
And, with a ray of love divine,

Illume my dying bed.
mp 5 Leaning on thy dear faithful breast,

May I resign my breath,
And, in thy fond embraces, lose

66 The bitterness of death."

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HYMN 623, S. M. 623

Reflections on past Generations. 1 HOW swift the torrent rolls,

That

The tide which hurries thoughtless souls
P To vast eternity!
-2 Our fathers !—where are they,

With all they called their own
Their joys and griefs--and hopes and cares,

And wealth and honor--gone!
3 But joy or grief succeeds

Beyond our mortal thought,
While still the remnant of their dust

Lies in the grave forgot. тр 4 There, where the fathers lie,

Must all the children dwell;
Nor other heritage possess,

But such a gloomy cell.

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5 God of our fathers ! lear,

Thou everlasting Friend!
While we, as on life's utmost verge,

Our souls to thee commend.
6 Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,
Till with them, in the land of light,

We dwell before thy face.

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HYMN 624, L. M. 624

Death of the Righteous.
1
HOW

OW blest the righteous when he dies, P

When sinks a weary soul to rest !

How mildiy beam the closing eyes! P> How gently leaves th' expiring breast! mp 2 So fades a summer cloud away;

So sinks a gale when storms are o'er;

So gently shuts the eye of day; P

So dies a wave along the shore. mp 3 A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys;
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,

Which his unfettered soul cnjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears !

Where lights and shades alternate dwell :
How bright th' unchanging morn appears !

Farewell, inconstant world! farewell! 5 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay,

Light from its load the spirit flies; While heaven and earth combine to say,-

“How blest the righteous when he dios !"

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HYMN 625, 88 and 78. 625

The dying Saint comforted. mf 1

HA
APPY soul! thy days are ending,

All thy mourning days below:
Go, the angel guards attending-

To the sight of Jesus go!
Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Shows the fullness of his merit-

Reaches out the crown of love.

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2 For the joy he sets before thee,

Bear a momentary pain ;
Die-to live a life of glory ;

Suffer-with thy Lord to reign :
Struggle, through thy latest passion,

To thy dear Redeemer's breast,
To liis uttermost salvation,

To lis everlasting rest.

HYMN 626, 7s and 4. 626

Support in Death. aft 1

THEN the vale of death appears,

Faint and cold this mortal clay,–
Kind Forerunner! soothe my fears,

Light me through the darksome way;
Break the shadows, -

Usher in eternal day.
2 Upward from this dying state,

Bid my waiting soul aspire;
Open thou the crystal gate;

To thy praise attune my lyre :
Then, triumphant,-

I will join th’immortal choir.
3 When the mighty trumpet, blown,

Shall the judginent dawn proclaim,
From the central, burning throne,

Mid creation's final flame,
With the ransomed, -

Thou wilt own my worthless name.

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HYMN 627, C. M. 627

Mourning with Hope. aft 1 once-lored form, now cold and dead,

Each mournful thought employs;
And nature weeps, her comforts fled,

And withered all her joys.
2 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time,-

When what we now deplore
Shall rise, in full immortal prime,

And bloom to fade no inore.
3 Then cease, fond nature! cease thy tears,

Religion points on high;

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mf There everlasting spring appears, And joys that cannot die.

HYMN 628, L. M. 628

Death of an Infant. mp 1

SO
O fades the lovely, blooming flower,-

Frail smiling solace of an hour!
So soon our transient comforts fly,

And pleasure only blooms to die. aft 2 Is there no kind, -no lenient art,

To heal the anguish of the heart?
Spirit of grace! be ever nigh,

Thy comforts are not made to die.
3 Bid gentle patience smile on pain,

Till dying hope shall live again ;

Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye, mf And faith points upward to the sky.

HYMN 629, C. M. 629

The Grave peaceful. mp 1

Where— Th' appointed house, by leaven's decree,

Receives us all at last!
2 The wicked there from troubling cease,

Their passions rage no more;
And there, the weary pilgriın rests

From all the toils he bore.
3 All, leveled by the hand of death,

Lie sleeping in the tomb,
Till God, in judgment, call them forth,

To meet their final doom.

HOW still and

peaceful is the grave,

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HYMN 630, C. M. 630

Prospect of Denth. тр

1
MY
Y soul! come, meditate the day,

And think, how near it stands,
When thou must quit this house of clay,

And fly to unknown lands. 2 And you, my eyes! look down and view P

The hollow gaping tomb;
This gloomy prison waits for you,

Whene'er the summons come.

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3 Oh! could we die with those that die, .

And place us in their stead;
Then would our spirits learn to fly,

And converse with the dead.
4 Then should we see the saints above,

In their own glorious forms,
Avd wonder, wliy our souls should love

To dwell with mortal worms.
5 We should almost forsake ou clay,

Before the summons come,
And pray, and wish our souls away,

To their eternal home.

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HYMN 631, 83 and 78. 631

The Spirit of a dying Christian. < 1

PARTE

ARTING soul! the flood awaits thee, mf

And the billows round thee roar;
Yet rejoice,-the holy city,

Stands on yon celestial shore.
2 There, are crowns and thrones of glory,

There, the living waters glide;
There, the just in shining raiment,

Standing by Immanuel's side. mf 3 Linger not,—the stream is narrow,

Though its cold dark waters rise ;
He, who passed the flood before thee,

Guides thy path to yonder skies.

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HYMN 632, L. M. 632

Death disarmed.
1 THY should we start, and fear to die?

What tim'rous worms we mortals are ! < Death is the gate of endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there.
mp 2 The pains, the groans, the dying strife,

Fright our approaching souls away;
Still we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prisou and our clay.
3 Oh! if my Lord would come and meet,

My soul would stretch her wings in haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she passed.

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