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4 Can this be he who wont to stray
A pilgrim on the world's highway,
By power oppressed, and mocked by pride?
O God, is this the Crucified?

5 Go, tyrants, to the rocks complain;
Go, seek the mountain's cleft in vain;
But faith, victorious o'er the tomb,
Shall sing for joy, "The Lord is come."

517

7s M.

The last Judgment.

1 IN the sun, and moon, and stars,
Signs and wonders there shall be;
Earth shall quake with inward wars,
Nations with perplexity.

BISHOP HEBER.

2 Soon shall ocean's hoary deep,

Tossed with stronger tempests, rise;
Darker storms the mountain sweep,
Redder lightning rend the skies.

3 Evil thoughts shall shake the proud, Racking doubt and restless fear; And amid the thunder-cloud

Shall the Judge of men appear.

4 But though from that awful face

Heaven shall fade, and earth shall fly,
Fear not ye, his chosen race,

Your redemption draweth nigh.

408

518

P. M.

Judgment Hymn.

1 GREAT God, what do I see and hear?
The end of things created!
The Judge of mankind doth appear
On clouds of glory seated;

519

The trumpet sounds, the graves restore
The dead which they contained before;
Prepare, my soul, to meet him.

LUTHER.

L. M.
The last Day.

1 THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away!
What power shall be the sinner's stay?
How shall he meet that dreadful day?
2 When, shrivelling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead; -

520

SIR W. SCOTT.

3 0, on that day, that wrathful day,

When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be thou the trembling sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away.

P. M.

Day of Judgment.

1 THE day of wrath, that dreadful day,
Shall the whole world in ashes lay,
As David and the Sibyls say.

ROSCOMMON.

2 The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound Shall through the rending tombs rebound, And wake the nations under ground.

3 Nature and death shall, with surprise, Behold the pale offender rise,

And view the Judge with conscious eyes.

4 Then shall, with universal dread,

The sacred mystic book be read,
To try the living and the dead.

5 The Judge ascends his awful throne; He makes each secret sin be known; And all with shame confess their own.

6 Prostrate my contrite heart I rend; My God, my Father, and my Friend, Do not forsake me in iny end.

521

1 SOON shall this earthly frame, dissolved, In death and ruins lie;

C. M. SCOTCH PARAPHRASES. Hope of Heaven.

But better mansions wait the just,
Prepared above the sky.

2 A house eternal, built by God,
Shall lodge the holy mind,
When once those prison walls are broke
By which 'tis now confined.

3 We know that, when the soul, unclothed,
Shall from this body fly,
"Twill animate a purer frame
With life that cannot die.

4 Such are the hopes that cheer the just; These hopes their God hath given; His Spirit is the earnest now,

And seals their souls for heaven.

5 What faith rejoices to believe,

We long and pant to see;
We would be absent from the flesh,
And present, Lord, with thee.

522

C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

God the everlasting Light of the Saints above. Is. lx. 20. 1 YE golden lamps of heaven, farewell, With all your feeble light;

Farewell, thou ever-changing moon,
Pale empress of the night.

2 And thou, refulgent orb of day,
In brighter flames arrayed,

My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere,
No more demands thine aid.

3 Ye stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode,

The pavement of those heavenly courts,
Where I shall reign with God.

4 The Father of eternal light

Shall there his beams display;
Nor shall one moment's darkness mix
With that unvaried day.

5 No more the drops of piercing grief
Shall swell into mine eyes,
Nor the meridian sun decline

Amidst those brighter skies.

6 There all the millions of his saints
Shall in one song unite,

And each the bliss of all shall view
With infinite delight.

523

C. M.

Death and immediate Glory.

1 THERE is a house not made with hands, Eternal and on high,

And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.

2 Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall;
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy heavenly Father's call.

3 'Tis he by his almighty grace

That forms thee fit for heaven, And, as an earnest of the place, Has his own Spirit given.

4 We walk by faith of joys to come;
Faith lives upon his word;
But, while the body is our home,
We're absent from the Lord.

5 'Tis pleasant to believe thy grace, But we had rather see;

We would be absent from the flesh,
And present, Lord, with thee.

412

WATTS.

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