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3 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. 4 I come, I come; at thy command,

I give my spirit to thy hand;
Stretch forth thine everlasting arms,
And shield me in the last alarms.

5 The hour of my departure's come;

I hear the voice that calls me home;
Now, O my God, let trouble cease,
Now let thy servant die in peace.

7s M.


. The dying Christian to his Soul. 1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame,

Quit, О quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife.
And let me languish into life.

2 Hark! they whisper; angels say,

“Sister spirit, come away.”
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?

Tell me, my soul, can this be death? 3 The world recedes; it disappears;

Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears

With sounds seraphic ring;
Lend, lend your wings; I mount, I fly;
O grave, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?

C. M.

DODDRIDGE. God the Soul's Support in Extremity. 1 MY soul, the awful hour will come;

Apace it hasteth on,
To bear this body to the tomb,

And thee to scenes unknown.
2 Whence, in that hour, shall I receive

A cordial for my pain,
When, if earth's monarchs were my friends,

Those friends would weep in vain ? 3 Great King of nature and of grace,

To thee my spirit flies,
And opens all its deep distress

Before thy pitying eyes.

4 All its desires to thee are known,

secret fear,
The meaning of each broken groan

Well noticed by thine ear.

5 O, fix me, by that mighty power

Which to such love belongs,
Where darkness veils the eye no more,

And groans are changed to songs.


C. M.

DODDRIDGE. Enuch's Piety and Translation. 1 ETERNAL God, our wondering souls

Admire thy matchless grace
That thou wilt walk, that thou wilt dwell

With Adam's worthless race. 2 0, lead me to that happy path

Where I my God may meet;
Though hosts of foes begird it round,

Though briers wound my feet. 3 Nor shall I through eternal days

A restless pilgrim roam ;
Thy hand, that now directs my course,

Shall soon convey me home.
4 I ask not Enoch's rapturous flight

To realms of heavenly day,
Nor seek Elijah's fiery steeds

To bear this flesh away.
5 Joyful my spirit will consent

To drop its mortal load,
And hail the sharpest pangs of death

That break its way to God.

C. M.

Watts. Moses dying in the Embraces of God. 1 DEATH cannot make our souls afraid,

If God be with us there;
We may walk through her darkest shade,

And never yield to fear.

2 I could renounce my all below,

If my Creator bid,
And run if I were called to go,

And die as Moses did.

3 Might I but climb to Pisgah's top,

And view the promised land,
My flesh itself should long to drop,

And pray for the command. 4 Clasped in my heavenly Father's arms

I would forget my breath,
And lose my life among the charms

Of so divine a death.


L. M.


Courage in Death. Ps. 16.

1 WHEN God is nigh, my faith is strong;

His arm is my almighty prop;
Be glad, my heart, rejoice, my tongue;

My dying flesh shall rest in hope.

2 Though in the dust I lay my head,

Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave My soul forever with the dead,

Nor lose thy children in the grave. 3 My flesh shall thy first call obey,

Shake off the dust, and rise on high; Then shalt thou lead the wondrous way

Up to thy throne above the sky.

34 *


S. M.

WATTS. Triumph oder Deatk. 1 AND must this body die,

This mortal frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine

Lie mouldering in the clay? 2 Corruption, earth, and worms

Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes

To put it on afresh.
3 God, my Redeemer, lives,

And often from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.

4 Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape and every face

Look heavenly and divine.


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