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C. M.

Victory through Christ over Death. 1 Cor. xv.

1 WHEN the last trumpet's awful voice
This rending earth shall shake,
When opening graves shall yield their charge,
And dust to life awake,


2 Those bodies that corrupted fell
Shall incorrupted rise,

And mortal forms shall spring to life
Immortal in the skies.

3 Behold, what heavenly prophets sung
Is now at last fulfilled;

That Death should yield his ancient reign,
And, vanquished, quit the field.

4 Let Faith exalt her joyful voice, And thus begin to sing:

"O grave, where is thy triumph now? And where, O death, thy sting?"


L. M. 6L.

Life, Death, and the Resurrection. Ps. 89.
1 THINK, mighty God, on feeble man
How few his hours, how short his span!
Short from the cradle to the grave:
Who can secure his vital breath
Against the bold demands of Death,

With skill to fly, or power to save? 2 Lord, shall it be forever said,

"The race of man was only made

For sickness, sorrow, and the dust"? Are not thy servants, day by day, Sent to their graves, and turned to clay? Lord, where's thy kindness to the just?


3 Hast thou not promised to thy Son,
And all his seed, a heavenly crown?

But flesh and sense indulge despair:
Forever blessed be the Lord,
That faith can read his holy word,
And find a resurrection there.


C. M.

A Prospect of the Resurrection.

1 HOW long shall Death, the tyrant, reign, And triumph o'er the just,

While the rich blood of martyrs slain
Lies mingled with the dust?

2 Let faith arise, and climb the hills,
And from afar descry

How distant are his chariot wheels,
And tell how fast they fly.


3 Lo, I behold the scattering shades;
The dawn of heaven appears;
The sweet, immortal morning spreads
Its blushes round the spheres.

4 I see the Lord of glory come,

And flaming guards around;
The skies divide to make him room,
The trumpet shakes the ground.

5 I hear the voice, "Ye dead, arise;"
And, lo, the graves obey,
And waking saints, with joyful eyes,
Salute the expected day.


1 THE ever-living God

The expiring church shall raise;
Our hearts his promises receive,
And wake a shout of praise.

S. M.

God quickening the Dead.

2 "Yes," saith the God of truth,
"My dead shall live again;

The foe shall see their Leader's breath
Reanimate the slain.

3 "The dew of heaven shall fall In rich abundance round, And a redundant harvest rise


To clothe the teeming ground."

4 Thy Zion, Lord, believes A promise so divine,

And looks through all her flowing tears,

To see the glory shine.


C. M.

A Prospect of Death and Judgment.

1 THE day approacheth, O my soul,
The great, decisive day,

Which from the verge of mortal life
Shall bear thee far away.

2 Another day, more awful, dawns;
And, lo, the Judge appears;
Ye heavens, retire before his face,
And sink, ye darkened stars.

3 Yet does one short, preparing hour,
One precious hour, remain;

Rouse thee, my soul, with all thy power,
Nor let it pass in vain.



4 For this, thy temple, Lord, we throng;
For this, thy board surround;
Here may our service be approved,
And in thy presence crowned.

C. M.

Prospect of Judgment.

1 WHEN rising from the bed of death,
O'erwhelmed with guilt and fear,

I see my Maker face to face,
O, how shall I appear!



2 If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be sought,
My heart with inward horror shrinks,
And trembles at the thought,

3 When thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclosed

In majesty severe,

And sit in judgment on my soul,
O, how shall I appear!

4 But there's forgiveness, Lord, with thee;
Thy nature is benign;
Thy pardoning mercy I implore,
For mercy, Lord, is thine.

5 0, let thy boundless mercy shine
On my benighted soul;

Correct my passions, mend my heart,
And all my fears control.

6 And may I taste thy richer grace, In that decisive hour

When Christ to judgment shall descend,
And time shall be no more.


L. M.

Christ coming to Judgment.

1 THE Lord will come; the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixed seat forsake;
And, withering, from the vault of night,
The stars withdraw their feeble light.


2 The Lord will come, but not the same As once in lowly form he came,

A silent Lamb to slaughter led,

The bruised, the suffering, and the dead.

3 The Lord will come, a dreadful form,
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm,
On cherub wings, and wings of wind,
Anointed Judge of human kind.

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