43 1 2 3 4 5 6 S S. M. WEET feast of love Divine ! Here every welcome guest The sweetness of the bread of life, The blood that flowed for sin And feel the blessed pledge within, That we are loved of Thee. Oh, if this glimpse of love What will it be, O Lord, above, Thy gladdening smile to meet! And all Thy ways of wondrous grace 44 1 C. M. E followers of the Prince of Peace, Remember what His spirit was, 45 2 The love which His pure bosom filled Inspired by love He lived and taught; 3 Let each His sacred law fulfil; Be every heart the home of love, 4 Let none who call themselves His friends 1 THE Matrimony. 7. 6. 7. 6. HE voice that breathed o'er Eden, The primal marriage blessing, 2 Still in the pure espousal Of Christian man and maid Which nought on earth may break, 4 Be present, awful Father, 46 1 5 Be present, Son of Mary, 6 Be present, Holiest Spirit, Till to the home of gladness With Christ's own Bride they rise. Burial of the Dead. MORLEY'S DOUBLE CHANT. ROTHER, thou art gone before us, B and thy saintly soul is flown Where tears are wiped from every eye, 2 From the burden of the flesh, And from care and fear released, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest. 3 The toilsome way thou'st travelled o'er, And borne the heavy load; But Christ hath taught thy languid feet 4 And there thou 'rt sure to meet the good Where the wicked cease from troubling, 5 "Earth to earth," and "dust to dust," 47 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 7 And when the Lord shall summon us 8 May each, like thee, depart in peace, Where the wicked cease from troubling, 8. 8. 8. 8. 8. 8. TOW rests her soul in Jesu's arms, Her body in the grave sleeps well; No foe her spirit's home alarms, And peace more calm than tongue can tell,— Her few brief hours of conflict passedShe finds with Christ, her Lord, at last. 2 She hath escaped all danger now, Her pain and sighing all are fled, The crown of joy is on her bow, Eternal glories o'er her shed, In golden robes,-a queen, a bride,She standeth at her Sovereign's side. 3 The child hath now its Father seen, And feels what kindling love may be, 4 We, who yet wander through the waste, 48 Where we, who knows how soon? shall meet, 13. 11. 12. 11. 1 HOU art gone to the grave but we will not TH deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Saviour hath passed through its portal before thee, And the lamp of His love is thy guide through the gloom. 2 Thou art gone to the grave we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side; But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, for the Sinless hath died. 3 Thou art gone to the grave-and, its mansion forsaking, Perchance thy tried spirit in fear lingered long; |