Imatges de pÓgina

2 Hark!-they whisper-angels say,
“Sister spirit, come away:
What is this absorbs me quite ?-
Steals my senses--shuts my siglit
Drowns my spirits-draws my breath ?-
Tell me, my soul-can this be death?
3 The world recedes--it disappears-
Heaven opens on my eyes !--my ears
With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory!
O Death! where is thy sting!"

C. M.

York. Medfelde 618 Submission under the Loss of Friends.

PEACE! 'tis the Lord Jehovah's hand

That blasts our joys in death;
That mars that form to us so dear,

And gathers back the breath.
2 "ris he-the King and Lord supreme

of all the worlds above,
Whose steady counsels wisely rule,

Nor from their purpose move.
3 'Tis he, whose justice might demand

Our souls a sacrifice;
Yet scatters, with inwearied hand,

A thousand rich supplies.
4 Silent we own Jehovah's name;

We kiss the scourging hand;
And yield our comforts, and our life,
To his supreme command.

8. M. Bethany. St. Thomas. 619

Hope of the Resurrection
AND must this body die?

This mortal frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine

Lie mouldering in the clay! mf 2 God, my Redeemer, lives,

And frequent from the skies,
Looks down and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.
3 Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine,

And every shape, and every face,

Look heavenly and divine.
4 These lively hopes we owe

To Jesus' dying love-
We would adore his grace below,

And sing his power above. mp 5 Accept, O Lord, the praise

Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

S. M. Bethany. Little Marlboro. 620 Resurrection and Judgment.

AND am I born to die?

To lay this body down?
And must my trembling spirit ily

Into a world unknown?
2 Waked by the trumpet's sound,

I from the grave must rise,
And see the Judge, with glory crowned,

And see the flaming skies.
3 How shall I leave my tomb?

With triumph or regret ?
A fearful or a joyful doom

A curse, or blessing meet?
4 I must from God be driven-

Or with my Saviour dwell;
Must come at his command to heaven

Or else depart-to hell.
Aff 5 O thou, that wouldst not have

One wretched sinner die,
Who diedst thyself, my soul to save
Fron endless misery ;-

1 6 Show me the way to shun

Thy dreadful wrath severe;
That, when thou comest on thy throne,
I may with joy appear.

S. M. Pentonville. Dover. 621 Christ's Second Coming.

IN expectation sweet,
We'll wail, and sing, and pray,

Tu Christ's triuniphal car we meet,

And see an endless day.


2 He comes !--the Conqneror comes !

Death falls beneath his sword;
The joyful prisoners burst their tombs,

And rise to meet their Lord.
3 The trumpet sounds Awake!

Ye dead, to judgment come!"-
The pillars of creation shake,

While hell receives her doom.
4 Thrice happy morn for those

Who love the ways of peace!
No night of sorrow e'er shall close,

Or shade their perfect bliss,
89, 78 & 4.

LO! he comes, with clouds descending,

Once for favored sinners slain !
Thousand, thousand saints, attending,
Swell the triumph of his train :

Jesus comes-and comes to reign.
2 Every eye shall now behold him,

Robed in dreadful majesty!

Those who set at nought and sold him,
P Pierced, and nailed him to the tree,

Deeply wailing,
Shall the true Messiah see!
3 When the solemn trump has sounded,

Heaven and earth shall flee away ;
All who hate him must, confounded,

Hear the summons of that day-

“ Come to judgment !

Come to judgment !-come away." f 4 Yea, amen !- let all adore thee,

High on thine eternal throne !
Saviour, take the power and glory ;

Make thy righteous sentence known!
Aff Oh come quickly

Claim the kingdom for thine own! 623

P. M. Luther's Hymn. Monmouth.
GREAT God! what do I see and hear!

The end of things created !
Behold the Judge of man appear,

On clouds of glory seated!

The trumpet sounds !--the graves restore
The dead which they contained before !

Prepare, my soul, to meet him. 624

C. M. Stephens. Stamford,
SEE! where the great incarnate God

Fills his majestic throne,
While froin the skies his awful voice

Bears the last judgment down.
2 Oh may I stand before the Lainb,

When earth and seas are fled,
And hear the Judge pronounce my name

With blessings on my head! 625


Lincoln. Adullume
HARK !—that shout of rapturous joy,

Bursting forth from yonder cloud
Jesus comes !-and through the sky,

Angels tell their joy aloud.
2 Hark !-the trumpet's awful voice

Sounds abroad, through sea and land ;
Let his people now rejoice!

Their redemption is at hand.
3 See! the Lord appears in view

Heaven and earth before him fly!
Rise, ye saints, he comes for you

Rise to meet him in the sky.
4 Go and dwell with him above,

Where no foe can e'er molest;
Happy in the Saviour's love!

Ever blessing, ever blest. 626

88, 73 & 4. Benson. Measin DAY of judgment-day of wonders!

Hark!-the trumpet's awsul sound,
Louder than a thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round!

How the summons
Will the sinner's heart confound !
2 See the Judge our nature wearing,

Clothed in majesty divine !
Yon, who long for bis appearing,

Then shall say, “ This God is mine!”
Af Gracious Saviour,

Own me in that day for thine!

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mf 3 At his call the dead awaken,

Rise to life from earth and sea ;
All the powers of nature, shaken

By his looks, prepare to flee:
Af Careless sinner,

What will then become of thee? mf 4 But to those who have confessed,

Loved and served the Lord below!
He will say, “ Come near, ye blessed,
See the kingdom I bestow:

You forever
Shall my love and glory know.”

C. M. Dundee. Spences. 627

The Judgment anticipated.
WHEN, rising from the bed of death,

O'erwhelmed with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker face to face

Oh, how shall I appear!
2 If now, 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,

Oh, how shall I appear!
4 Then see my sorrows, gracious Lord;

Let mercy set me free;
While in the confidence of prayer

My heart takes hold of thee.
mf 5 For never shall my soul despair

Thy mercy to procure;
Since thy beloved Son has died

To make that mercy sure!
C. P. M.

WHEN thou, my righteous Judge, shalt como
To fetch thy ransomed people bome,

Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes ain afraid to die,

Be found at thy right hand ?

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