6 Rather my spirit would rejoice,
And long and wish to hear thy voice:
Glad when it bids me earth resign,
Secure of heav'n, if thou art mine.
HYMN 356. C. M.
The Death of a Believer.
IN vain my fancy strives to paint
The moment after death;
The glories that surround a saint,
When yielding up his breath.
2 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks,
"he's gone!"
Before the willing spirit takes
We scarce can say,
Its mansion near the throne.
3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace the spirit's flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides the world of light.
4 Thus much (and this is all) we know, Saints are completely blest;
Have done with sin, and care, and woe,
And with their Saviour rest.
5 On harps of gold they praise his name,
His face they always view;
Then let us followers be of them,
That we may praise him too.
HYMN 357. L. M.
The Death of Saints.
UR life how short! a groan, a sigh ! We live, and then begin to die; Death steals upon us while we're green, Behind us digs a grave unseen.
2 But Oh! how great a mercy this,
That death's a portal into bliss;
While yet the body's scarce undrest,
The soul ascends to heav'nly rest.
3 My soul! death swallows up thy fears,
My grave-clothes wipe away all tears;
Why should we fear this parting pain,
Who die, that we may live again?
4 Oh! how the resurrection light
Will clarify believers' sight;
How joyful will the saints arise,
And rub the dust from off their eyes!
5 My soul! my body I will trust,
With him who numbers ev'ry dust;
My Saviour faithfully will keep
His own-their death is but a sleep.
The Happiness of departing, and being with Christ. Phil. i. 23.
WHILE on the verge of life I stand,
And view the scene on either hand,
My spirit struggles with the clay,
And longs to wing its flight away.
2 Come, ye angelic guardians, come,
And lead the willing pilgrim home;
Ye know the way to Jesu's throne,
Source of my joys, and of your own.
3 The blissful interview, how sweet!
To fall transported at his feet;
Rais'd in his arms to view his face,
Thro' the whole beamings of his grace.
4 Yet, with these prospects full in sight,
I'll wait thy signal for my flight;
For, while thy service I pursue,
I find my heav'n begun below.
HYMN 359. C. M.
Victory over Death through Christ. 1 Cor. xv. 57.
WHEN death appears before my sight,
In all his dire array,
Unequal to the dreadful fight,
My courage dies away.
2 But see my glorious Leader nigh!
My Lord, my Saviour lives:
Before him death's pale terrors fly,
And my faint heart revives.
3 He left his dazzling throne above,
He met the tyrant s dart,
And (0 amazing pow'r of love!)
Receiv'd it in his heart.
4 No more, O grim destroyer, boast
Thy universal sway;
To heav'n-born souls thy sting is lost,
Thy night is turn'd to day.
5 Lord, I commit my soul to thee,
Accept the sacred trust;
Receive this noble part of me,
And watch my sleeping dust:
6 Till that illustrious morning come,
When all thy saints shall rise,
And, cloth'd in full immortal bloom,
Attend thee to the skies.
HYMN 360. C. M.
The Death and Burial of a Saint. HY do we mourn departing friends?
WHY do we moueaths alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to his arms.
2 Are we not tending upwards too,
As fast as time can move?
Nor would we wish the hours more slow,
To keep us from our love.
3 Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb ?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And left a long perfume.
4 The graves of all his saints he bless'd,
And soften'd ev'ry bed:
Where should the dying members rest,
But with the dying head?
5 Thence he arose, ascending high,
And show'd our feet the way;
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising day.
6 Then let the last loud trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise;
Awake, ye nations under ground,
Ye saints, ascend the skies.
HYMN 361. L. M.
The Death of the Sinner and the Saint. THAT scenes of horror and of dread,
WAwait the sinner's dying bed!
Death's terrors all appear in sight,
Presages of eternal night.
2 His sins in dreadful order rise,
And fill his soul with sad surprise;
Mount Sinai's thunder stuns his ears,
And not one ray of hope appears.
3 Tormenting pangs distract his breast;
Where'er he turns he finds no rest;
Death strikes the blow, he groans and cries,
And, in despair and horror, dies.
4 Not so the heir of heav'nly bliss;
His soul is fill'd with conscious peace;
A steady faith subdues his fear;
He sees the happy Canaan near.
5 His mind is tranquil and serene;
No terrors in his looks are seen;
His Saviour's smile dispels the gloom,
And smooths his passage to the tomb.
6 Lord, make my faith and love sincere ;
My judgment sound, my conscience clear;
And when the toils of life are past,
May 1 be found in peace at last.
HYMN 362. S. M.
Preparation for Death.
REPARE me, gracious God,
To stand before thy face;
Thy Spirit must the work perform,
For it is all of grace.
2 In Christ's obedience clothe,
And wash me in his blood;
So shall I lift my head with joy,
Among the sons of God.
3 Do thou my sins subdue,
Thy sov'reign love make known ;
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