L. M. The great journey. Job xvi. 22. 1 BEHOLD the path that mortals tread Down to the regions of the dead! Nor will the fleeting moments stay, Nor can we measure back our way. 2 Our kindred and our friends are gone, And soon this doom will be our own; Feeble as theirs our mortal frame, The same our way-our house the same. 3 From vital air, from cheerful light, To the cold grave's perpetual night, From scenes of duty, means of grace, Must we to God's tribunal pass ! 4 Important journey! awful view!
How great the change! the scene how new! The gates of heav'n or hell display'd,- The realms of light, or gloomy shade! 5 Awake our souls; for death prepare, And lose in this each mortal care; With steady feet that path be trod, Which through the grave conducts to God.
6 Jesus, to thee our all we trust, And, if thou call us down to dust, We know thy voice, we bless thy hand, And die in smiles at thy command.
7 What was our terror, is our joy; These views our brightest hopes employ, To go ere many years are o'er, Secure we shall return no more.
C.M. The certainty and solemnity of death. Heb. ix. 27. 1 HEAV'N hath pronounc'd the great decree, That Adam's race must die; One gen'ral ruin sweeps them down, And low in dust they lie.
2 Ye living men, survey the tomb Where you must shortly dwell:
Hark! how the awful summons sounds In ev'ry fun'ral knell.
3 Once you must die-and once for all The solemn purport weigh;
For know that heav'n and hell depend On that important day.
4 Your eyes, though long in darkness veil'd, Must wake the judge to see;
And ev'ry deed, and word, and thought, Must pass his scrutiny.
5 0 may we, in the Judge, behold
Our Saviour and our Friend; And far above the reach of death, With all the saints ascend.
L. M. Dust returning to dust. Gen. iii. 19. 1 WHY should we murmur, sons of earth, That sorrow clouds our mortal birth,- That racking pains, and dark'ning woes, Pursue us to our journey's close?
2 By sin defil'd, our grov'lling frame
Cleaves to the dust from which it came;
And, lodg'd within the grave's domain, We soon shall blend with dust again. 3 The ground that mocks our weary tread, And scarce repays our toil with bread, Is, through our sin, accurs'd to be A type of our depravity.
4 Earth yields us scanty gifts ;-she gave A cradle, and prepares a grave; Her glory, in its proudest form, Ends in corruption and the worm. 5 Leave dust to dust ;-let faith survey The hour when earth must pass away; And, wrapp'd in folds of blazing fire, Her glory with her shame expire.
6 A new creation then shall rise,—
New heav'ns and earth shall meet our eyes, And, rais'd from dust, and freed from stain, We shall our Paradise regain.
M. The vicinity of death. 1 Sam. xx. 3. Luke xii. 20. 1 A HAND unseen is o'er us now,
Whose lightest touch can quench our breath; But who can tell the destin'd brow That next will feel the stroke of death?
2 That awful hand hath rested not, While years by thousands roll'd away: It hovers nigh-it points the spot Where we must blend with kindred clay. 3 "Thou fool!"-its silent motion cries- "This night thy forfeit soul I claim; "Then whose thy toys, thy darling prize, "Of riches, pleasure, learning, fame?” 4 The knell hath toll'd, the grave hath yawn'd For many a bright and blooming one, Radiant in life when morning dawn'd, And cold in death ere day was done.
5 To die!-it is the gen'ral doom; Then judgment comes, in stern array: O trifler! deem not in thy tomb To sleep unconscious hours away. 6 Canst thou in flames eternal dwell? Or, seek'st thou a celestial throne? The joys of heav'n, or pains of hell, To-morrow may become thine own.
C. M. On the death of a young person.
1 LIFE is a span, a fleeting hour; How soon the vapour flies! Man is a tender, transient flow'r, That ev'n in blooming dies.
2 Death chills, like winter's frozen arms, And beauty smiles no more:
Ah! where are now those rising charms, Which pleas'd our eyes before?
3 The once lov'd form, now cold and dead, Each mournful thought employs; And nature weeps her comforts fled, And wither'd all her joys.
4 But wait the interposing gloom, Behold, stern winter flies;
And, dress'd in beauty's fairest bloom, The flow'ry tribes arise.
5 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time, When what we now deplore Shall rise in full, immortal prime, And bloom to fade no more.
6 Cease, then, fond nature, cease thy tears, The gospel points on high;
There, everlasting spring appears, And joys that cannot die.
C. M. Consolation under the death of Christian friends, 1 Thessalonians iv. 14.
1 WHY should we mourn departing friends, Or shake at death's alarms? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends To call them to his arms.
2 Are we not tending upward too, As fast as time can move?
Nor would we wish the hours more slow That lift our souls above.
3 Why should we tremble to convey Their bodies to the tomb ? There once our Saviour Jesus lay, And has dispell'd its gloom.
4 The graves of all his saints he bless'd, And soften'd ev'ry bed;
Where should the dying members rest, But with their dying head ?
5 Thence he arose, ascending high, And show'd our feet the way; Up to the Lord we too 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.
Ts. The death of a believer. 1 Thess. iv. 13.
1 Now be hush'd the plaint of woe→ Ev'ry heart with triumph glow- Ev'ry tongue the chorus swell- Praise to him who conquer'd hell! 2 Jesus conquer'd! Jesus reigns! He hath rent our brother's chains;
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