4 Within these walls, let holy peace, 5 Here may salvation be proclaimed, 6 Here may a numerous crowd arise, Here may their songs salute the skies, 673 - mf mf Those blessed who die in the Lord. HEAR what the voice from heaven proclaims For all the pious dead! Sweet is the savor of their names, And soft their sleeping bed. 2 They die in Jesus, and are blest; 3 Far from this world of toil and strife, 674 End in a large reward. C. M. Eastport. Spencer. Death and Burial of Christians. WHY do we mourn departing friends, 2 Are we not tending upward too, To heaven's desired abode ? Why should we wish the hours more slow, 3 Why should we tremble to convey "Twas there the Saviour's body lay, 4 The graves of all his saints he blest, Where should the dying members rest, 5 Thence he arose ascending high, mf6 Then let the last loud trumpet sound, Awake, ye nations under ground! 675 f UNVAIL thy bosom, faithful tomb; To slumber in the silent dust. 2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear Passed through the grave, and blest the bed. 676 Shall then arise to meet the Lord. CEASE, ye mourners, cease to languish 2 While our silent steps are straying, There, no fear of wo intruding, 677 Len C. M. Dundee. Collingham. NOW let our mourning hearts revive, Why should those eyes be drowned in grief, 2 What though the arm of conquering death What though the prophet and the priest 3 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust- The watchful eye in darkness closed, His eye still guides us-and his voice 5 "Lo! I am with you," saith the Lord, 6 Through every scene of life and death, And this shall be our children's song, 678 Meditation on the Tomb. HARK! from the tombs a doleful sound; "Ye living men, come view the ground 2 Princes, this clay must be your bed, The tall, the wise, the reverend head, 3 Great God! is this our certain doom? Still walking downwards to the tomb, 4 Grant us the power of quickening grace, Then, when we drop this dying flesh, 679 A Warning from the Grave. BENEATH our feet and o'er our head 2 Death rides on every passing breeze, 3 Turn, mortal, turn!-thy danger know: The earth rings hollow from below, 4 Turn, Christian, turn!-thy soul apply That they who underneath thee lie 680 P VA The House appointed for all Living. Th' appointed house, by heaven's decree, 2 The wicked there from troubling cease- And there the weary pilgrim rests 3 All, levelled by the hand of death, Till God in judgment call them forth, 681 S. M. Rapid Flight of Time. MY few revolving years, How swift they glide away! 2 A dark and cloudy day, With watchful care may I pursue 682 C. M. Bethany. St. Mary's. Spencer. BEHOLD, my soul, the narrow bound How swift the weeks complete their round! 2 So fast eternity comes on, When all that mortal life has done, 3 Yet, like an idle tale we pass Aff 4 Awake, O God! each trifling heart That all may act the Christian part, 5 So shall their course more grateful roll, Or this shall bear the willing soul To joy which never dies. C. M. Stamford. York. 683 Praise for Providential Goodness. GOD of our lives, thy various praise Thy hand directs our fleeting days, |