Time and Eternity.
In a world of sin and sorrow,
Compass'd round with many a care,
From eternity we borrow
Hope, that can exclude despair:
Thee, triumphant God and Saviour,
In the glass of faith we see;
O assist each faint endeavour!
Raise our earth-born souls to thee.
Place that awful scene before us,
Of the last tremendous day;
When to life thou shalt restore us,
Ling'ring ages, haste away!
Then this vile and sinful nature
Incorruption shall put on;
Life-renewing, glorious Saviour!
Let thy gracious will be done.
430. Midnight.
My God, now. I from sleep awake,
The sole possession of me take,
From midnight terrors me secure,
And guard my heart from thoughts impure.
Bless'd angels, while we silent lie,
You hallelujahs sing on high;
You joyful chant the ever-blest,
Before the throne, and never rest,
I with your choir celestial join
In offering up a hymn divine;
With you in heaven I hope to dwell,
And bid the night and world farewel.
O may I always ready stand
With my lamp burning in my hand!
May I in sight of heav'n rejoice,
Whene'er I hear the bridegroom's voice!
The sun in its meridian height
Is very darkness in thy sight:
My soul O lighten, and inflame
With thought and love of thy great name!
Bless'd Jesus, thou on heav'n intent
Whole nights hast in devotion spent:
But I, frail creature, soon am tir'd,
And all my zeal is soon expir'd.
Shine on me, Lord, new life impart,
Fresh ardour kindle in my heart;
One ray of thy ali-quick'ning light
Dispels the sloth and clouds of night.
Praise God, &c.
431. Life and Eternity.
THEE we adore, eternal name!
And humbly own to thee,
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we!
Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;
And ev'ry beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.
The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,
We're trav'lling to the grave.
Dangers stand thick thro' all the ground,
To push us to the tomb;
And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.
Good God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal states of all the dead,
Upon life's feeble strings.
Infinite joy or endless woe
Attends on ev'ry breath;
And yet how unconcern'd we go
Upon the brink of death!
'Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense,
To walk this dang'rous road;
And if our souls are hurry'd hence,
May they be found with God.
OFT as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, Am I
Prepar'd, should I be call'd to die?'
Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails, at once I'm
n gone,
And plung'd into a world unknown.
The bearing all I lor'd below,
To God's tribunal I must go;
Must bear the Judge pronounce my fate,
And is my everlasting state.
But could I bear to hear him say,
• Depart, accursed, far away!
• With Sutan, in the lowest hell,
• Toon art for ever doom`d to dwell.'
Lord Jesus, help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Aply the blood, thy Spirit give,
Subdue my sin, and in me live.
Then, when the solemn bell I hear,
If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear;
Nor would the thought distressing be,
Perhaps the next may toll for me.
433. On the Death of a Minister. Now let our mourning hearts revive, And all our tears be dry:
Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief,
Which view a Saviour nigh?
What tho' the arm of conqu❜ring death
Does God's own house invade ?
What tho' the prophet and the priest
Be number'd with the dead?
Tho' earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged, and the young,
The watchful eye in darkness clos'd,
And mute th' instructive tongue;
Th' eternal Shepherd still survives,
New comforts to impart;
His eye still guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.
Lo, I am with you,' saith the Lord,
My church shall safe abide;
For I will ne'er forsake my own,
• Whose souls in me confide.'
Thro' ev'ry scene of life and death,
This promise is our trust?
O may this be our children's song,
When we are cold in dust.
434. On the Death of a Believer.
'Tis finish'd, 'tis done!
The spirit is fled,
The pris'ner is gone,
The Christian is dead:
The Christian is living
Thro' Jesus's love,
And gladly receiving
A kingdom above.
All honour and praise
Is Jesus's due;
Supported by grace,
He fought his way thro';
Triumphantly glorious,
Thro' Jesus's zeal,
And more than victorious
O'er sin, death, and hell.
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