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4 The joy that fades is not for me;
I seek immortal joys above;

There glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.

495

L. M.

DODDRIDGE.

The Wisdom of redeeming Time.

1 GOD of eternity, from thee

Did infant Time his being draw;

Moments and days, and months and years,
Revolve by thine unvaried law.

2 Silent and slow they glide away;

Steady and strong the current flows,
Lost in eternity's wild sea,

The boundless gulf, from whence it rose.

3 With it the thoughtless sons of men
Before the rapid stream are borne
On to that everlasting home,

Whence not one soul can e'er return.
4 Yet while the shore, on either side,
Presents a gaudy, flattering show,
We gaze, in fond amusement lost,
Nor think to what a world we go.

5 Great Source of wisdom, teach my heart
To know the price of every hour;
That time may bear me on to joys
Beyond its measure, and its power.

391

SECTION II.

DEATH.

496

C. M.

Frailty and Mortality of Man.

1 ALL nature dies, and lives again;

The flower that paints the field,

LOGAN.

The trees that crown the mountain's brow,
And boughs and blossoms yield, -

2 Resign the honors of their form
At winter's stormy blast,

And leave the naked, leafless plain
A desolated waste.

3 Yet, soon reviving, plants and flowers
Anew shall deck the plain;

The woods shall hear the voice of spring,
And flourish green again.

4 But man forsakes this earthly scene,
Ah! never to return;

Shall any following spring revive
The ashes of the urn?

5 The mighty flood that rolls along
Its torrents to the main,
Can ne'er recall its waters lost
From that abyss again.

6 And man, when laid in lonesome grave,
Shall sleep in death's dark gloom,
Until the eternal morning wake
The slumbers of the tomb.

497

C. M.

Man's Mortality.

BISHOP HEBER.

1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven.

2 Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay;
And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.

3 Death rides on every passing breeze;
He lurks in every flower;

Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour.

4 Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead.

5 Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply
To truths divinely given;

The bones that underneath thee lie
Shall live for hell or heaven.

393

498

C. M.

SCOTCH PARAPHRASES.

The Peace of the Grave. Job iii. 17-20.

1 HOW still and peaceful is the grave! Where, life's vain tumults past,

The appointed house, by Heaven's decree,
Receives us all at last.

2 The wicked there from troubling cease;
Their passions rage no more;
And there the weary pilgrim rests
From all the toils he bore.

3 There rest the prisoners, now released
From slavery's sad abode ;

No more they hear the oppressor's voice,
Or dread the tyrant's rod.

4 There servants, masters, small and great,
Partake the same repose;

And there, in peace, the ashes mix
Of those who once were foes.

5 All, levelled by the hand of death,
Lie sleeping in the tomb,

Till God in judgment calls them forth,
To meet their final doom.

499

S. M.

DODDRIDGE.

Reflections on the State of our Fathers.

1 HOW swift the torrent rolls,

That bears us to the sea!

The tide that bears our thoughtless souls

To vast eternity!

DEATH.

2 Our fathers, where are they,

With all they called their own?

Their joys, and griefs, and hopes, and cares,
And wealth, and honor gone.

3 There, where the fathers lie,
Must all the children dwell;
Nor other heritage possess,
But such a gloomy cell.

4 God of our fathers, hear,

Thou everlasting Friend!

While we, as on life's utmost verge,

Our souls to thee commend.

5 Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,
Till with them in the land of light
We dwell before thy face.

500

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Journeying through Death to Life.

1 THROUGH sorrow's night, and danger's path, Amid the deepening gloom,

We, soldiers of a heavenly King,
Are marching to the tomb.

2 There, when the turmoil is no more,
And all our powers decay,
Our cold remains in solitude
Shall sleep the years away.

3 Our labors done, securely laid
In this our last retreat,
Unheeded, o'er our silent dust
The storms of life shall beat.

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