-4 Not so the heir of heav'nly bliss:
His soul is fill'd with conscious peace;
A steady faith subdues his fear;
He sees the happy Canaan near.
b 5 His mind is tranquil and serene,
No terrours in his looks are seen;
His Saviour's smile dispels the gloom,
And smooths his passage to the tomb.
-6 Lord make my faith and love sincere,
My judgment sound, my conscience clear;
And when the toils of life are past,
May I be found in peace at last.

1

FAWCETT.

HYMN 225. C. M. St. Ann's. [*]
Infants, living or dying in the Arms of Christ.
HY life I read, my dearest Lord,

TH

With transport all divine;

Thine image trace in ev'ry word,
Thy love in ev'ry line.

2 With joy I see a thousand charms,
Spread o'er thy lovely face;
While infants in thy tender arms,
Receive the smiling grace.

d 3 "I take these little lambs," said he,
"And lay them in my breast;
"Protection they shall find in me-
"In me be ever blest.

4 "Death may the bands of life unloose,
"But can't dissolve my love;

"Millions of infant souls compose

"The family above.

5 "Their feeble frames my power shall raise, "And mould with heav'nly skill: "I'll give them tongues to sing my praise, "And hands to do my will."

o 6 His words, ye happy parents, hear, And shout, with joys divine,

d Dear Saviour, all we have and are, Shall be forever thine.

1

STENNETT.

HYMN 226. C. M. Canterbury. [b*]
On the Death of Children. Isa. iv, 5.
E mourning saints, whose streaming tears

YFlower your children dead,

Say not in transports of despair,
That all your hopes are fled.

2 While cleaving to that darling dust,
In fond distress ye lie;

Rise, and with joy, and reverence, view,
A heavenly Parent nigh.

e 3 Tho', your young branches torn away,
Like wither'd trunks ye stand;

o With fairer verdure shall ye bloom,
Touch'd by the Almighty's hand.

d. 4 "I'll give the mourner," saith the Lord,
"In my own house a place:
"No name of daughters and of sons,
"Could yield so high a grace.

5 “Transient and vain is every hope
"A rising race can give;

"In endless honour and delight,

"My children all shall live."

-6 We welcome, Lord, those rising tears, 'Thro' which thy face we see;

o And bless those wounds which, thro' our hearts,

1

Prepare a way to thee.

DODDRIDGE.

HYMN 227. C. M. Isle of Wight. [*]

WE

Death of a Young Person.

THEN blooming youth is snatch'd away,
By death's resistless hand,

Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
O may this truth, imprest

e With awful power-I too must dieSink deep in every breast.

e 3 Let this vain world engage no more,
Behold the gaping tomb!

It bids us seize the present hour!
Tomorrow death may come.

4 The voice of this alarming scene
May every heart obey;

Nor be the heavenly warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray.

o 5 Let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose powerful arm can save;

Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.

-6 Great God, thy sovereign grace impart,

With cleansing, healing power; This only can prepare the heart For death's surprising hour.

1

HYMN 228. C. M. Zion.

STELLE.

[*]

Death of Pious Friends. 1 Thess. iv, 13, 14.
NAKE comfort,christians, when your friends,
In Jesus fall asleep;

TAK

Their better being never ends;
Then why dejected weep?
2 Why inconsolable, as those
To whom no hope is given?
Death is the messenger of peace,
And calls the soul to heaven.
3 As Jesus died, and rose again,
Victorious from the dead;

o So his disciples rise and reign,
With their triumphant head.

e 4 The time draws nigh,, when from the clouds Christ shall with shouts descend;

g And the last trumpet's awful voice

The heavens and earth shall rend. -5 Then they who live shall changed be, And they who sleep shall wake;

o The graves, shall yield their ancient charge;
And earth's foundation shake.

6 The saints of God, from death set free,
With joy shall mount on high;
-The heavenly hosts, with praises loud,
Shall meet them in the sky.

7 A few short years of evil past,
We reach the happy shore;

o Where death-divided friends, at last,

1

Shall meet to part no more.

SCOTCH PAR.

HYMN 229. C. M. St. Paul's. [b*]

The Christian's Farewell.

Egolden 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 array'd;

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

3 Ve stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode;

The pavement of those heavenly courts,
Where I shall see my God.

o 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 my eyes;

Nor the meridian sun decline,

Amidst those brighter skies.

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

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

DODDRIDGE.

HYMN 230, 8s. Consolation. [*]
Death Gain to a Believer.

1 TOW blest is our friend-now bereft

HOW

Of all that could burden his mind!

How easy his soul-that has left

This wearisome body behind?
Of evil incapable thou,
Whose relics with envy I see;
No longer in misery now-
No longer a sinner like me.

2 This earth is affected no more
With sickness, or shaken with pain;
The war with the members is o'er,"
And never shall vex him again.
No anger henceforward, nor shame,
Shall redden his innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,
And passion is vanish'd away.
3 This languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immoveable breast,
Is heav'd by affliction no more.

This heart is no longer the seat
Of trouble and torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat--
It never shall flutter again.

4 The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Sealed up in eternal repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep.
The fountains can yield no supplies,
These hollows from water are free;
The tears are all wip'd from these eyes,
And evil they never shall see.

5 To mourn and to suffer is mine,
While bound in a prison I breathe;
And still for deliverance pine,
And press to the issues of death.
What now with my tears I bedew,
Oh, shall I not ere long become,
My spirit created anew—

My body consign'd to the tomb! WHITEFIELD.

HYMN 231. L. M.

Sicilian. [b*]

A Funeral Hymn.

1 INVEIL thy bosom, faithful tomb,

UNV

Take this new treasure to thy trust;
And give these sacred relics room,
To seek a slumber in the dust.

2 Nor pair, nor grief, nor anxious fear
Invade thy bounds. No mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
While angels watch the soft repose.
e 3 So Jesus slept;--God's dying Son
Pass'd thro' the grave, and blest the bed;
Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
o 4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn;
Attend, O earth! his sov'reign word;
o Restore thy trust—a glorious form--
Call'd to ascend and meet the Lord.

1

WATTS.

HYMN 232. C. M. Sunday. [*]
The Resurrection. 1 Cor. xv, 52-58.
WHEN the last trumpet's awful voice

W This rending earth shall shake