1 Tim. vi. 19.

WHERE shall rest be found,-
Rest for the weary soul?

"Twere vain the ocean-depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole:
The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh;

"Tis not the whole of life, to live,
Nor all of death, to die.

Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.

There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath;
O what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death!

Lord God of truth and grace,
Teach us that death to shun,
Lest we be banished from Thy face,
And evermore undone :

Here would we end our quest;
Alone are found in Thee
The life of perfect love,-the rest
Of immortality.

705 In My Father's house are many

1

mansions.-John xiv. 2.

HEN I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,

I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.

2 Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan's rage,
And face a frowning world.

3 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall;
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heaven, my all!

4 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.

10 But we march upward still,

UR journey is a thorny maze,

Forget the troubles of the way,
And reach at Zion's hill.

2 See the kind angels at the gates,
Inviting us to come;

There Jesus the Forerunner waits,
To welcome travellers home.

8 There on a green and flowery mount
Our weary souls shall sit,
And with transporting joys recount
The labours of our feet.

4 No vain discourse shall fill our tongue,
Nor trifles vex our ear;
Infinite grace shall fill our song,
And God rejoice to hear.

5 Eternal glories to the King
That brought us safely through,
Our tongues shall never cease to sing,
And endless praise renew.

C.M.

707 Fe are come to Mount Zion.

Heb. xii. 22.

WATTS.

1 NOT to the terrors of the Lord,
The tempest, fire, and smoke;
Not to the thunder of that word
Which God on Sinai spoke;

2 But we are come to Zion's hill,
The city of our God:
Where milder words declare His will,
And spread His love abroad.

3 Behold the innumerable host
Of angels clothed in light;
Behold the spirits of the just,
Whose faith is turned to sight;

4 Behold the blest assembly there,
Whose names are writ in heaven;
And God, the Judge of all, declares
Their vilest sins forgiven.

5 The 3 on earth, and all the dead,
But one communion make;
All join in Christ their Living Head,
And of His grace partake.

6 In such society as this

My weary soul would rest;

The man that dwells where Jesus is, Must be for ever blest.

708 The whole family in heaven and

1

earth.-Eph. iii. 15.

COME, let us join our friends above

Who have obtained the prize;
And on the eagle-wings of love,
To joys celestial rise.

2 Let all the saints terrestrial sing,
With those to glory gone;
For all the servants of our King,
On earth and heaven, are one.
3 One family, we dwell in Him;
One church, above, beneath;
Though now divided by the stream,
The narrow stream of death.

4 One army of the living God,
To His command we bow

Part of His host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.

5 Ten thousand to their endless home
This solemn moment fly;

And we are to the margin come,
And we expect to die.

6 E'en now by faith we join our hands
With those that went before;
And greet the blood-besprinkled bands
On the eternal shore.

For here have we no continuing city. Heb. xiii. 14.

EVE no abiding city here [mind:

C.M.

WATTS.

But should not cost the saint a tear,
Who hopes a better rest to find.

2 We've no abiding city here;

Sad truth, were this to be our home;
But let the thought our spirits cheer,
We seek a city yet to come.

3 We've no abiding city here;
Then let us live as pilgrims do:
Let not the world our rest appear,
But let us haste from all below.
4 We've no abiding city here;
We seek a city out of sight:
Zion its name, the Lord is there;
It shines with everlasting light.

5 O sweet abode of peace and love,

Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest:
Had I the pinions of a dove,
I'd fly to thee and be at rest.

6 But hush, my soul, nor dare repine,
The time my God appoints is best;
While here, to do His will be mine:
And His to fix my time of rest.

1

servant be.-John xii. 26.

FROM Thee, my God, my joys shall

And run eternal rounds,
Beyond the limits of the skies,
And all created bounds.

2 The holy triumphs of my soul
Shall death itself outbrave,
Leave dull mortality behind,
And fly beyond the grave.

[rise,

3 There, where my blessed Jesus reigns, In heaven's unmeasured space,

I'll spend a long eternity

In pleasure and in praise.

4 Millions of years, my wondering eyes Shall o'er Thy beauties rove,

And endless ages I'll adore

The glories of Thy love.

712

1

My Father's house,-John xiv. 2.

FATHER, I long, I faint to see

The place of Thine abode;

I'd leave Thine earthly courts, and flee Up to Thy seat, my God.

2 Here I behold Thy distant face,
And 'tis a pleasing sight;

But to abide in Thine embrace
Is infinite delight.

3 I'd part with all the joys of sense

To gaze upon Thy throne:

Pleasure springs fresh for ever thence, Unspeakable, unknown.

4 The more Thy glories strike mine eyes The humbler I shall lie;

Thus while I sink, my joys shall rise Unmeasurably high.

713

1

Earnestly desiring..our house which
is from heaven.-2 Cor. v. 2.
TOW let our souls, on wings sublime,

Now let our the Vanities of time;
Draw back the parting veil, and see
The glories of eternity.

2 Shall aught beguile us on the road.
When we are walking back to God?
For strangers into life we come,
And dying is but going home.

2 Hallelujah! church victorious, Thou mayst lift this joyful strain: Hallelujah! songs of triumph

Well befit the ransomed train: We our song must raise with sadness, While in exile we remain.

3 Hallelujah! strains of gladness Suit not souls with anguish torn; Hallelujah! notes of sadness Best befit our state forlorn: For, in this dark world of sorrow, We, with tears, our sin must mourn. 4 But our earnest supplication,

Holy God, we raise to Thee; Bring us to Thy blissful presence, Make us all Thy joys to see; Then we'll sing our Hallelujah,Sing to all eternity.

715

S

DEATH AND

DEATH. L.M.

DODDRIDGE.

The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more.-Job vii. 8.

1 NOVEREIGN of Life! before Thine eye, Lo! mortal men by thousands die. One glance from Thee, at once, brings down

The proudest brow that wears a crown. 2 Banished, at once, from human sight To the dark grave's unchanging night, Imprisoned in that dusty bed, We hide our solitary head.

3 The friendly band no more shall greet, Accents familiar once and sweet;

No more the well-known features trace; No more renew the fond embrace. 4 Yet if my Father's faithful hand Conduct me through this gloomy land, My soul with pleasure shall obey, And follow where He leads the way. He, nobler friends than here I leave, In brighter, surer worlds can give; Or, by the beamings of His eye, A lost creation well supply.

THE GRAVE.

4

3 Do we not dwell in clouds below,
And little know the God we love
Why should we like this twilight so,
When all is noon in worlds above?
There shall we see Him face to face:
There shall we know the Great Unknown;
There Jesus with His glorious grace
Shines in full light amidst the throne.
5 When we put off this fleshly load,
We're from a thousand mischiefs free
For ever present with our God,
Where we have wished and longed to be.
6 "Tis best,-'tis infinitely best,
To go where tempters cannot come;
Where saints and angels ever blest
Dwell, and enjoy their heavenly home.

7 0 for a visit from my God,

To drive my fears of death away:
And help me through this darksome road
To realms of everlasting day.

1

WHY

WHY should we start and fear to die? What timorous worms we mortals Death is the gate of endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there.

{are!

4 Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on His breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.

C.M.

WATTS.

718 Followers of them who...inherit the

promises.-Heb. vi. 12.

1 MUST friends and kindred droop and

And helpers be withdrawn?
While sorrow, with a weeping eye,
Counts up our comforts gone?
2 Be Thou our comfort, Mighty God!
Our Helper and our Friend;

Nor leave us, in this dangerous road,
Till all our trials end.

3 0 may our feet pursue the way
Our pious fathers led:

With love and holy zeal obey

The counsels of the dead.

4 Let us be weaned from all below,
Let hope our grief expel,

While death invites our souls to go
Where our best kindred dwell.

S.M.

[die,

DODDRIDGE.

719 Four fathers, where are they

1

Zech. i. 5.

OW swift the torrent rolls
That bears us to the sea;

The tide that bears our deathless souls
To vast eternity!

2 Our fathers, where are they,

3

With all they called their own?

Their joys and griefs have passed away, Their wealth and honour gone.

There, where the fathers sleep,

Must all their children dwell; Nor other heritage can keep

Than such a narrow cell.

A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are Thine.

2 O Father, in that hour,
When earth all succouring power
Shall disavow;

When spear and shield and crown
In faintness are cast down
Sustain us, Thou!

3 By Him who bowed to take
The death-cup for our sake,
The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay
Was not to pass away;
Aid us, O God.

4 Tremblers beside the grave,
We call on Thee to save,

Father divine!

Hear, hear our suppliant breath, Keep us, in life and death,

722

Thine, only Thine.

C.M.

WATTS.

Thanks be to God, who giveth us
the victory.-1 Cor. xv. 57.

10 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 quivering lips shall sing,-
Where is thy boasted victory, Grave!
And where the monster's sting?

3 If sin be pardoned I'm secure,
Death hath no sting beside;

The law gives sin its damning power: But Christ, my ransom, died.

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

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

thought!

flesh! O blissful

What joys unknown this moment brings;
Freed from the mischiefs sin has wrought,
From pains, and fears, and all their
springs.

2 Absent from flesh! illustrious day,
Surprising scene, triumphant stroke
That rends the prison of my clay,
And I can feel my fetters broke.

3 Absent from flesh ! then rise, my soul,
Where feet nor wings could ever climb;
Beyond the heavens, where planets roll,
Measuring the cares and joys of time.

4 I go where God and glory shine;
His presence makes eternal day;
My all that's mortal I resign,
For angels wait and point my way.

724

1

78. D.
TOPLADY.
How wilt thou do in the swelling of
Jordan Jer. xii. 5.
Dear, thou native of the skies;
EATHLESS principle! arise;

Pearl of price, by Jesus bought,
To His glorious likeness wrought,
Go, to shine before His throne;
Deck His mediatorial crown;
Go, His triumphs to adorn;
Made for God, to God return.

2 Lo! He beckons from on high,
Fearless to His presence fly;
Thine the merit of His blood,
Thine the righteousness of God.
Angels joyful to attend,

Hovering round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,
And escort thee quick to heaven.
3 Shudder not to pass the stream:
Venture all thy care on Him;-
Him whose dying love and power
Stilled its tossing, hushed its roar :
Safe is the expanded wave;
Gentle as a summer's eve:
Not one object of His care
Ever suffered shipwreck there.

4 See the haven full in view;

Love divine shall bear thee through.
Trust to that propitious gale;
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail.
Saints in glory, perfect made,
Wait thy passage through the shade;
Ardent for thy coming o'er,

See! they throng the blissful shore.

5 Mount, their transports to improve;
Join the longing choir above;
Swiftly to their wish be given;
Kindle higher joy in heaven.-
Such the prospects that arise
To the dying Christian's eyes;
Such the glorious vista, Faith
Opens through the shades of death.

1

2 Tim. iv. 7.

BRUCE.

THE hour of my departure's come;

I hear the voice that calls me home; At last, O Lord, let troubles cease And let Thy servant die in peace. 2 The race appointed I have run, The fight is o'er, the prize is won; And now my witness is on high, And now my record's in the sky. 3 Not in mine innocence I trust; I bow before Thee in the dust, And through my Saviour's blood alone I look for mercy at Thy throne. 4 I leave the world without a tear, Save for the friends I held so dear; To heal their sorrows, Lord, descend, And to the friendless prove a friend.

5 I come, I come, at Thy command,
I yield my spirit to Thy hand;
Stretch forth Thine everlasting arms,
And shield me in the last alarms.
6 The hour of my departure's come;
I hear the voice that calls me home.
Now, O, my God, let troubles cease;
Now let Thy servant die in peace.

8.7. D.

C. WESLEY.

726 To die is gain. Phil. i. 21.

1 HAPPY soul! thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below;
Go, by angel guards attended,
To the throne of Jesus, go:
Waiting to receive thy spirit,
Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Shows the purchase of His merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.

2 Struggle through thy latest passion,
To thy dear Redeemer's breast,
To His uttermost salvation,
To His everlasting rest;.
For the joy He sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain:
Die, to live a life of glory;

Suffer, with Thy Lord to reign.

1

H

Numb. xxiii. 10.

TOW blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a weary soul to rest
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves the expiring breast!

2 So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

3 A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears, Where lights and shades alternate dwell! How bright the unchanging morn appears!

Farewell, inconstant world, farewell! 5 Life's labour done, as sinks the clay, Light from its load the spirit flies; While heaven and earth combine to say, How blest the righteous when he dies! POPE.

728

78. Irregular.
O grave, where is thy victory
1 Cor. xv. 55.

1 Vait, quit this mortal frame: spark of heavenly flame,

Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.