An Exhortation to prepare for Death. 1 VAIN man, thy fond pursuits forbearRepent!-thy end is nigh! Death at the farthest can't be far: Oh! think before thou die. 2 Reflect-thou hast a soul to save: Thy sins how high they mount! What are thy hopes beyond the grave? How stands that dark account?

3 Death enters, and there's no defence,
His time there's none can tell:
He'll in a moment call thee hence,
To heaven-or to hell!

4 Thy flesh, perhaps thy chiefest care,
Shall crawling worms consume:
But, ah! destruction stops not there,
Sin kills beyond the tomb.
5 To-day the gospel calls; to-day,
Sinners, it speaks to you:

Let every one forsake his way,
And mercy will ensue :

6 Rich mercy, dearly bought with blood, How vile soe'er he be;

Abundant pardon, peace with God,
All giv'n entirely free.

130. 8.7. (R.)

Pleasing Anticipation of Death and Glory.

1 AH! I shall soon be dying,
Time swiftly glides away;
But, on my Lord relying,
I hail the happy day-

2 The day when I must enter
Upon a world unknown;
My helpless soul I veuture
On Jesus Christ alone.
N

3 He once a spotless victim,
Upon mount Calv'ry bled!
Jehovah did afflict him,

And bruise him in my stead.
4 Hence all my hope arises,
Unworthy as I am:
My soul most highly prizes
The sin-atoning Lamb.
5 To him by grace united,
I joy in him alone;
And now, by faith, delighted,
Behold him on his throne.

6 There he is interceding

For all who on him rest:-
The grace from him proceeding
Shall waft me to his breast.
7 Then with the saints in glory
The grateful song I'll raise,
And chaunt my blissful story
In high seraphic lays.

8 Free grace, redeeming merit,
And sanctifying love,

Of FATHER, SON and SPIRIT,
Shall charm the courts above.
131. C. M. (R.)

The safe and happy Exit.

1 LORD, must I die? Oh, let me die
Trusting in thee alone!-

My living testimony giv'n,
Then leave my dying one!

2 If I must die-Oh let me die.
In peace with all mankind;
And change these fleeting joys below
For pleasures all refin'd.

3 If I must die-as die I must

Let some kind seraph come
And bear me on his friendly wing
To my celestial home!

14 Of Canaan's land, from Pisgah's top,
May I but have a view!

Though Jordan should o'erflow its banks,
I'll boldly venture through.

132. L. M. (R.)

Prayer for Deliverance from the Fear of
Death.

10 God of love! with cheering ray
Gild my expiring streak of day;
Thy love, through each revolving year,
Has wip'd away affliction's tear.
2 Free me from death's terrific gloom,
And all the guilt which shrouds the tomb;
Heighten my joys, support my head,
Before I sink among the dead.

3 May death conclude my toils and tears!
May death destroy my sins and fears!
May death, through Jesus, be my friend!
May death be life, when life shall end!
4 Crown my last moment with thy pow'r-
The latest in my latest hour;

Then to the raptur'd heights I soar,

Where fears and deaths are known no

more.

133. 8s. W

On the Death of a Believer.

1 AH! lovely appearance of death!
No sight upon earth is so fair;
Not all the gay pageants that breathe,
Can with a dead body compare.
With solemn delight I survey
The corps when the spirit is fled,
In love with the beautiful clay,
And longing to lie in its stead.

2 How blest is our brother, bereft
Of all that could burden his mind;
How easy the soul that has left
The wearisome body behind;
Of evil incapable thou,

Whose relics with envy I see;
No longer in misery now,

No longer a sinner like me! 3 This earth is affected no more

With sickness, or shaken with pain;
The war in the members is o'er,
And never shall vex him again:
No anger henceforward or shame,
Shall redden this innocent clay,
Extinct is the animal flame,

And passion is vanish'd away.
4 This languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immoveable breast
Is heav'd by affliction no more;
This heart is no longer the seat
Of trouble and torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat,
It never shall flutter again.
5 The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Seal'd up in eternal repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep:
The fountains can yield no supplies,
These hollows from water are free;
The tears are all wip'd from these eyes,
And evil they never shall see.

6 To mourn and to suffer is mine,

While bound in a prison 1 breathe;
And still for deliverance pine,

And press to the issues of death :---
What now with my tears I bedew
O might I this moment become;
spirit created anew,

flesh be consign'd to the tomb.

134. C. M. Cowper.

On the Death of a Minister.

His Master taken from his head,
Elisha saw him go;

And in desponding accents said,
"Ah, what must Israel do?"
But he forgot the Lord who lifts
The beggar to his throne;
Nor knew, that all Elijah's gifts
Would soon be made his own.
What, when a Paul has run his course,
Or when Apollos dies;
Is Israel left without resource?
And have we no supplies?

Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives,
We have a boundless store;

And shall be fed with what he gives,
Who lives for evermore.

135. C. M. W. Boswell.

The Same.

[Designed as a Tribute to the Memory of the Rev. THOMAS USTICK, A. M. late Pastor of the First Baptist Church, Philadelphia.]

1 A CHAMPION of the cross is fled
From toil, and grief, and pain;
Wing'd his way with angelic speed,
An heavenly crown to gain.

2 Elijah-like, and fir'd with love,
He dropt his cumb'rous clay,
And soar'd to worlds of joy above-
Clad in a rich array.