2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath!
Soul, to its place on high!

They that have seen thy look in death
No more may fear to die.

3 Lone are the paths, and sad the hours,
Since thy meek spirit's gone;

But, O, a brighter home than ours,

In heaven, is now thine own!

A Communion Hymn.

1 HERE, in the broken bread,
Here, in the cup we take,
His body and his blood behold,
Who suffered for our sake.

2 Yes! that our souls might live,
Those sacred limbs were torn,
That blood was spilt, and pangs untold
Were by the Savior borne.

3 O Thou, who didst allow

Thy Son to suffer thus,

Father, what more couldst thou have done

Than thou hast done for us?

4 We are persuaded now,

That nothing can divide

Thy children from thy boundless love,
Displayed in Him who died;

5 Who died to make us sure

Of mercy, truth, and peace,

And from the power and pains of sin
To bring a full release.

10 THOU, whose own vast temple stands,
Built over earth and sea,

Accept the walls that human hands
Have raised to worship thee.

2 Lord, from thine inmost glory send,
Within these courts to 'bide,

The peace that dwelleth without end
Securely by thy side.

3 May erring minds that worship here
Be taught the better way,

And they who mourn, and they who fear, Be strengthened as they pray.

4 May faith grow firm, and love grow warm, And pure devotion rise,

While round these hallowed walls the storm Of earth-born passion dies.

243.

L. M.

FROTHINGHAM.

Ordination of a Minister.

1 O God, whose presence glows in all Within, around us, and above,

Thy word we bless, thy name we call,
Whose word is Truth, whose name is Love.

2 That truth be with the heart believed
Of all who seek this sacred place;
With power proclaimed, in peace received
Our spirit's light, thy Spirit's grace.

3 That love its holy influence pour,
To keep us meek, and make us free,
And throw its binding blessing more
Round each with all, and all with thee.

4 Direct and guard the youthful strength
Devoted to thy Son this day;

And give thy word full course at length
O'er man's defects and time's decay.

5 Send down its angel to our side;
Send in its calm upon the breast;
For we would know no other guide,
And we can need no other rest.

244.

10s M.

MONTGOMERY.

Death of a Minister in his Prime.

1 Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime,
In full activity of zeal and power!

A Christian cannot die before his time;
The Lord's appointment is the servant's hour.

2 Go to the grave; at noon from labor cease;
Rest on thy sheaves; thy harvest-task is done;
Come from the heat of battle, and in peace,
Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won.

3 Go to the grave; for there thy Savior lay
In death's embraces, ere he rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way,
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.

4 Go to the grave:

no, take thy seat above; Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord, Where thou for faith and hope hast perfect love, And open vision for the written Word.

1

245.

S. M.

MONTGOMERY.

On the Death of an aged Minister.

"SERVANT of God, well done!
Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy."

2 The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear;

A mortal arrow pierced his frame-
He fell, but felt no fear.

3 Tranquil amidst alarms,

It found him on the field,
A veteran slumbering on his arms,
Beneath his red-cross shield.

4 The pains of death are past;
Labor and sorrow cease;
And, life's long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.

5 Soldier of Christ, well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Savior's joy.

The Death of Martyrs.

1 FLUNG to the heedless winds,
Or on the waters cast,
Their ashes shall be watched,
And gathered at the last:
And from that scattered dust,
Around us and abroad,
Shall spring a plenteous seed
Of witnesses for God.

2 The Father hath received
Their latest living breath;
Yet vain is Satan's boast
Of victory in their death:
Still, still, though dead, they speak,
And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim
To many a wakening land

The one availing name.

247.

C. M.

R. NICOLL.

The Protestant Reformation.

1 AN offering at the shrine of power
Our hands shall never bring;
A garland on the car of pomp
Our hands shall never fling;
Applauding in the conqueror's path
Our voices ne'er shall be;
But we have hearts to honor those
Who bade the world go free.

2 Praise to the good, the pure, the great,
Who made us what we are!

Who lit the flame, which yet shall glow
With radiance brighter far.

Glory to them in coming time,

And through eternity,

Who burst the captive's galling chains,
And bade the world go free.

248.

12 & 11s M.

HEBER.

Farewell to a Friend departed.

1 THOU art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore

thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Savior has passed through its portals before thee, And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.