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4 My soul is sprinkled with the Blood
Thy Son hath shed for us,
Adorned and radiant thus.
From sin Thou madest me free :
In death deliver me.
And dost perforin Thy word : ,
Miss Winkworth. 1855.
Tr. Philip Frederic Hiller. 1765. 586 0 Herre Gott, ich ruf zu Dir. L. M. 61.
1 0 LORD my God, I cry to Thee !
In my distress Thou helpest me.
Since Thou dost call me to depart!
Once slain to take away our load!
Bid me the joy of angels share.
Sweet Comforter, be Thou my Friend!
Miss Winkworth. 1858.
Tr. Nicholas Selnecker.1587.
C. M. 1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given ;
Above us is the heaven.
Their bones are in the clay;
Ourselves may be as they.
He lurks in every flower;
Its peril ever hour.
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
On manhood's middle day.
Halt feebly towards the tomb;
And dreams of days to come?
Where'er thy foot can tread,
And warns thee of her dead.
To truths divinely given;
Reginald Heber. 1827. 588
11s. 1 Things of the earth in the earth let us lay,
Ashes with ashes, the dust with the clay:
2 Since He, the Immortal, hath entered the gate,
So too shall we mortals, or sooner or late. Stand we on Christ : let us mark Him ascend,
Whose is the glory and life without end. 3 There with His own ones, the Giver of good,
Blessing them once more, a little while stood: Nothing can part us, nor distance, nor foes,
For lo! He is with us, and who can oppose ? 4 So, Lord, we commit this our brother to Thee,
Whose body is dead, but whose spirit is free: We know that, through grace, when our life here
Who Three art in person, in substance but One,
John Mason Neale. 1864. a.
589 Ach, wie 80 sanft entschläfest du. C. M. 1 At length released from many woes,
How sweetly dost thou sleep!
While Christ thy soul doth keep!
which lifeless lies,
More glorious shalt arise.
Nor shall our hearts repine.
A happy lot is thine.
4 The Bridegroom will not long delay;
The Shepherd soon will come,
To His eternal home.
O'er every earthly thing;
Frances Elizabeth Cox. 1841. a.
Tr. Gottfried Neumam. 1778. 590
L. M. 1 ASLEEP in Jesus! blessed sleep,
From which done ever wakes to weep:
Unbroken by the last of foes.
To be for such a slumber meet;
That Death has lost his venomed sting!
Whose waking is supremely blest :
That manifests the Savior's power.
May such a blissful refuge be:
And wait the summons from on high.
Affects this precious hiding-place :
Believers find the same repose.
Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
Mrs. Mackay. 1835.
C. M. 1 Why do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
To call them to His arms.
As fast as time can move ?
To keep us from our love.
Their bodies to the tomb ?
There hopes unfading bloom.
And softened every bed :
But with their dying Head?
And showed our feet the way;
At the great rising-day.
And bid our kindred rise;
Watts. 1709, a.
C. P. M.
Or frown our tears to see;
For them that rest in Thee.