5 Then shall I see thy lovely face,
With strong immortal eyes;
And feast upon thy unknown grace,
With pleasure and surprise.

258. Victory over Death. 1 Cor. xv. 55, &

10

(C. M.)

FOR an overcoming faith,
To cheer my dying hours,

To triumph o'er the monster death,
And all his frightful powers!

2 Joyful with all the strength I have,
My quiv'ring lips should sing,
"Where is thy boasted victory, Grave?
"And where the monster's sting?"

3 If sin be pardon'd I'm secure,
Death has no sting beside;
The law gave sin its damning power,
But Christ my ransom dy'd.

4 Now to the God of victory,
Immortal thanks be paid;

Who makes us conquerors while we die,
Through Christ our living head.

259. Blessed are the Dead that die in the Lor Rev. xiv. 13. (C. M.)

1 LEAR what the voice from heav'n proclaims

H For all the pious dead;

Sweet is the savour of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

2 They sleep in Jesus, and are bless'd;
How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins releas'd;
And freed from every snare.

3 Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labours of their mortal life,
End in a large reward.

260. The Song of Simeon; or, Death made

LO

desirable. Luke ii 29. (C. M.)

ORD, at thy temple we appear,
As happy Simeon came;

And hope to meet our Saviour here;
O make our joys the same!

2 With what divine and vast delight,
The good old man was fill'd,
When fondly in his wither'd arms,
He clasp'd the holy child!

3" Now I can leave this world," he cry'd, "Behold thy servant dies;

"I've seen thy great salvation, Lord, And close my peaceful eyes.

66

4" This is the light prepar'd to shine,

66

Upon the Gentile lands;

Thine Israel's glory, and their hope,
"To break their slavish bands."

5 Jesus, the vision of thy face,

Hath overpowering charms;

Scarce shall I feel death's cold embrace,
If Christ be in my arms.

6 Then while ye hear my heart-strings breal
How sweet my minutes roll!
A mortal paleness on my cheek,
And glory in my soul.

261. Assurance of Heaven; or, a Saint prepe

1

to die. 2 Tim. iv. 6––8. 18. (C. M.

DEATH may dissolve my body now,

And bear my spirit home;

Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?

2 With heav'nly weapons I have fought, The battles of the Lord,

Finish'd my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.

3 God has laid up in heav'n for me,
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge, at that great day,
Shall place it on my head.

4 Nor hath the King of grace decreed,
This prize for me alone;

But all that love and long to see,
Th' appearance of his Son.

5 Jesus the Lord shall guard me safe,
From every ill design;
And to his heav'nly kingdom keep,
This feeble soul of mine.

6 God is my everlasting aid,
And hell shall rage in vain ;
To him be highest glory paid,
And endless praise,-Amen!

62.

Death and Eternity. (C. M.)

1STOOP down, my thoughts, that use to rise,

Converse a while with death:
Think how a gasping mortal lies,
And pants away his breath.
2 His quiv'ring lip hangs feebly down,
His pulses faint and few;
Then, speechless, with a doleful groan,
He bids the world adieu.

3 But, O the soul, that never dies!
At once it leaves the clay!

Ye thoughts, pursue it where it flies,
And track its wond'rous way.

4 Up to the courts where angels dwell,
It mounts triumphing there,
Or devils plunge it down to hell,
In infinite despair.

5 And must my body faint and die?
And must this soul remove?
O for some guardian angel nigh,
To bear it safe above!

6 Jesus, to thy dear faithful hand,

My naked soul I trust;

And my flesh waits for thy command,
To drop into my dust.

263. Christ's Presence makes Death easy. (L. M.)

WHY 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.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,
Fright our approaching souls away;
Still we shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 0! if my Lord would come and meet,
My soul should stretch her wings in haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd.

4 Jesus can make a dying bed,
Feel soft as downy pillars are,
While on his breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.

264. Moses dying in the Embraces of God. (C. M.)

1 DE

EATH cannot make our souls afraid,
If God be with us there;

We may walk through its darkest shade,
And never yield to fear.

2 I could renounce my all below,
If my Creator bid;

And run if I were call'd to go,
And die as Moses did.

3 Might I but climb to Pisgah's top,
And view the promis'd land,

My flesh itself would long to drop,
And pray for the command.

4 Clasp'd in my heav'nly Father's arms,
I would forget my breath,

And lose my life among the charms,
Of so divine a death.