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These fountains can yield no suppliesThese 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 bedev, Oh, shall I not shortly become! My spirit created anew, Ere I am consign'd to the tomb!
HYMN 570. 8s. Mitcham. Uxbridge. Franklin. Death of a Sister. "TIS finish'd : the conflict is past, The heaven-born spirit is fled; Her wish is accomplish'd at last, And now she's entomb'd with the dead. The months of affliction are o'er, . The days and the nights of distress; We see her in anguish no moreShe's gained her happy release. 2 No sickness, or sorrow, or pain, Shall ever disquiet her now ; For death to her spirit was gain, Since Christ was her life when below. Her soul has now taken its flight o mansions of glory above, To mingle with angels of light, , And #" in the kingdom of love. *
3 The victory now is obtain'd;
She's gone her dear Saviour to see;
Her wishes she fully has gain'd-
Then let us forbear to complain,
We soon shall behold her again,
HYMN 571. C. M. Newton. - Mear. Barby. 1 IN vain my fancy strives to paint The moment after death; The glories that surround a saint, When yielding up his breath.
2 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks,
3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
4 Thus much (and this is all) we know,
5 On harps of gold they praise his name,
HYMN 572. S. M. Newton. St. Thomas. Dover. Balaam's wish. Num. xxiii. 10. 1 HOW blest the righteous are, When they resign their breath ! No wonder Balaam wish'd to share, In such a happy death, 2 “Oh! let me die,” said he, “The death the righteous do; When life is ended, let me be Found with the faithful few.”3 The force of truth, how great, * When enemies confess! None but the righteous whom they hate, A solid hope possess. 4 But Balaam’s wish was vainHis heart was insineere; He thirsted for unrighteous gain, And sought a portion here. 5 May we, O Lord most high, Warning from hence receive; If like the righteous we would die, To choose the life they live.
HYMN 573. C. M. • Steele.
* WHEN blooming youth is snatch'd away By '. resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay, Which pity must demand. 2. While pity prompts the rising sigh, Oh, may this truth, impress'd With awful pow'r—“I too must die”Sink deep in ev'ry breast.
3 The voice of this alarming scene
1 THE once lov'd form, now cold and dead,
2. But wait the interposing gloom,
4 Then cease, fond nature, cease thy tears;
HYMN 575. L. M. Newton.
1 OFT as the bell, with solemn toll,
2 “Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death;
. Soon as it fails, at once I’m gone, And plung'd into a world unknown.
3 * Then leaving all I lov’d below,
4 LoRD JESUs! help me now to flee, And seek my hope alone in thee; # thy blood, # Spirit giveSubdue my sins and let me live. 5 Then when the solemn bell I hear, If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear; Nor would the thought distressing be, . Perhaps it next may toll for me.