2 Thy earthly sabbaths, LORD! we love, 1 Which ends the reign of death and sin; 142. C. M. Approaching Death and Judgment. THE Which, from the verge of mortal life, Shall bear thee far away. 2 Another day more awful dawns ; 3 Yet does one short preparing hour, Rouse then, my soul! with all thy power, 143. L. M. The Day of Judgment. 1 ARISE my soul! extend thy wings Beyond the verge of mortal things: And meditate the awful day, When this vain world shall pass away. 2 The wreck of nature all around, The angels' shout, the trumpets sound, The Day of Judgment. EAR O ye dead! awake, arise! 1 HE The sounding trumpet shakes the skies! The awful Judge is near: Angelic guards attend him down; And flaming round his fiery throne 2 Pale guilt looks upwards with amaze; 3 But ye, his happy saints, rejoice; To joys for ever new. 4 'Bless'd of my Father! haste,' he cries; In shining triumph mount the skies, To nobler worlds above; There shall blissful sight, share my In my eternal love.' BOOK III. HYMNS RELATING TO THE USUAL CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE. 145. L. M. Life the Day of Mercy and Hope. 2 Life is the hour which Go hath given, 3 Then the great work we have to do, 1 146. E. M. Time flying, and Death approaching. THAT Swift on the wings of time it flies, When all the pains or pleasures here Will vanish from my closing eyes. 2 Think, O my soul! how much depends Shall time, which Heav'n in mercy lends, 3 Thy remnant minutes strive to use: 4 Lord of my life! inspire my heart With heav'nly ardour, grace divine; Nor let thy presence e'er depart, For strength, and life, and death, are thine. 5 O teach me the celestial skill 147. C. M. God the Preserver of frail Man. 1 THOUGH others, confident and vain, Nor death nor danger fear, We would a lively sense maintain, 2 Just like the grass our bodies stand, A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land, 3 Our life contains a thousand springs, Strange that a harp of thousand strings 4 'Tis God alone upholds our frame, Hosanna to his mighty name, The Vanity of Human Life. 1 FRAIL life of man-how short its stay, And various as the wind! Heedless we sport our hours away, 2 See the fair cheek of beauty fade, And blooming youth, with sick'ning head, 3 Wealth, pomp, and honour, we behold, With an admiring eye, Like summer's insects dress'd in gold. 4 Then rise, my soul ! and soar away, 5 Where everlasting beauties bloom, 1 Where wealth that never can consume, THE 149. L. M. The Frailty of Human life. HE morning flowers display their sweets, As careless of the noon-day heats, 2 Nipp'd by the wind's unkindly blast, 3 So blooms the human face divine, 4 Or worn by slowly rolling years, 5 Yet these, new-rising from the tomb, Safe from diseases and decline. P |