3 Wherefore, ye saints, rejoice with me,
With me sing praises to the Lord;
Call all his goodness to your mind,
And all his faithfulness record.

4 His anger is but short: his love,
Which is our life, hath certain stay,
Grief may continue for a night,
But joy returns with rising day.
5 Then, what I vow'd in my distress,
In happier hours I now will give,
And strive that in my grateful verse,
His praises may for ever live.
6 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The blest and undivided three;
The one sole giver of all life,
Glory and praise for ever be.

FUNERALS.

HYMN 124.

(c. M.)

1 HEAR what the voice from heaven declares To those in Christ who die! "Releas'd from all their earthly cares, "They'll reign with him on high.”

2 Then why lament departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?

Death's but the servant Jesus sends
To call us to his arms.

s If sin be pardon'd, we're secure,
Death hath no sting beside;

The law gave sin its strength and power;
But Christ, our ransom, died!

4 The graves of all his saints he bless'd,
When in the grave he lay;

And, rising thence, their hopes he rais'd
To everlasting day!

5 Then, joyfully, while life we have,
To Christ, our life, we'll sing,
"Where is thy victory, O grave?
"And where, O death, thy sting?”
G

1 WHEN those we love are snatch'd away By death's resistless hand,

Our hearts the mournful tribute pay
That friendship must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
With awful power imprest;

May this dread truth, "I too must die,"
Sink deep in ev'ry breast.

3 Let this vain world allure no more;
Behold the op'ning tomb;
It bids us use the present hour,-
To-morrow death may come.

4 The voice of this instructive scene
May ev'ry heart obey!
Nor be the faithful warning vain
Which calls to watch and pray.

50 let us to that Saviour fly,

Whose arm alone can save;

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

1 HOW short the race our friend has run,

Cut down in all his bloom!

The course but yesterday begun
Now finish'd in the tomb!

2 Thou joyous youth! hence learn how soon.
Thy years may end their flight:
Long, long before life's brilliant noon
May come death's gloomy night.
3 To serve thy God no longer wait,
To-day his voice regard;
To-morrow, mercy's open gate
May be for ever barr'd.

4 And thus the Lord reveals his

grace,

Thy youthful love to gain-
The soul that early seeks my face
Shall never seek in vain.

S the sweet flow'r that scents the morn,

1 AS

But withers in the rising day;
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,

Thus swiftly fled its life away.

2 It died ere its expanding soul

Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurn'd at heaven's control,
Or ever quench'd its sacred fires.
3 It died to sin, it died to cares,

But for a moment felt the rod
O mourner! such, the Lord declares,
Such are the children of our God!

ȚIII. INVITATION AND WARNING.

HYMN 128.

(III. 1.)

1 SINNERS, turn, why will ye die?

God, your Maker, asks you why?

God, who did your being give,
Made you with himself to live;
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the work of his own hands;
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die?
2 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
He, who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself that ye might live.
Will you let him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why
Will ye slight his grace, and die?
3 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He who all your lives hath strove,
Woo'd you to embrace his love;
Will ye not his grace receive?
Will ye still refuse to live?
O, ye dying sinners, why,
Why will for ever die?

ye

HYMN 129.

1 HASTEN, sinner, to be wise;
Stay not for the morrow's sun:
Wisdom, if you still despise,
Harder is it to be won.

2 Hasten, mercy to implore;

Stay not for the morrow's sun; Lest thy season should be o'er, Ere this evening's stage be run. 3 Hasten, sinner, to return;

(III. 1.)

Stay not for the morrow's sun; Lest thy lamp should cease to burn, Ere salvation's work is done.

4 Hasten, sinner, to be blest;

Stay not for the morrow's sun; Lest perdition thee arrest,

Ere the morrow is begun.

1 PEACE, troubled soul, whose plaintive moar
Hath taught each scene the note of wo;
Cease thy complaint, suppress thy groan,
And let thy tears forget to flow:
Behold, the precious balm is found,
To lull thy pain, and heal thy wound.
2 Come, freely come, by sin opprest,
On Jesus cast thy weighty load;
In him thy refuge find, thy rest,
Safe in the mercy of thy God:
Thy God's thy Saviour! glorious word!
O hear, believe, and bless the Lord!

HYMN 131.

Rev. xxii. 17, 20.

1 THE Spirit, in our hearts,

Is whisp'ring, sinner, come;

(s. M.)

The Bride, the church of Christ, proclaims

To all his children, come!

2 Let him that heareth say

To all about him, come!

Let him that thirsts for righteousness,
To Christ, the fountain, come!

3 Yes, whosoever will,

O let him freely come,

And freely drink the stream of life;
'Tis Jesus bids him come.

4 Lo! Jesus, who invites,

Declares, I quickly come:
Lord, even so! I wait thy hour;
Jesus, my Saviour, come!

HYMN 132.

(C. M.)

1 YE humble souls, approach your God
With songs of sacred praise,
For he is good, supremely good,
And kind are all his ways.

2 All nature owns his guardian care,
In him we live and move;
But nobler benefits declare
The wonders of his love.

3 He gave his Son, his only Son,
To ransom rebel worms;

'Tis here he makes his goodness known
In its diviner forms.

4 To this dear refuge, Lord, we come,
"Tis here our hope relies;

A safe defence, a peaceful home,
When storms of trouble rise.

5 Thine eye beholds, with kind regard,
The souls who trust in thee;
Their humble hope thou wilt reward,
With bliss divinely free.

6 Great God, to thy Almighty love,
What honours shall we raise!
Not all th' angelic songs above
Can render equal praise.

IX. CHRISTIAN DUTIES AND AFFECTIONS.

PRAYER.

1

PPROACH, my soul, the mercy-seat,

Where Jesus answers prayer;

There humbly fall before his feet,
For none can perish there