4 Dangers stand thick through all the ground, To push us to the tomb;

And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.

5 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this dangerous road;
And, if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.

450.

C. M.

J. NEWTON.

Vanity of mortal Life.

1 THE evils that beset our path,
Who can prevent or cure?
We stand upon the brink of death,
When most we seem secure.

2 If we to-day sweet peace possess,
It soon may be withdrawn;
Some change may plunge us in distress,
Before to-morrow's dawn.

3 Disease and pain invade our health,
And find an easy prey;

And oft, when least expected, wealth
Takes wings and flies away.

4 The gourds from which we look for fruit, Produce us often pain;

A worm unseen attacks the root,

And all our hopes are vain.

5 Since sin has filled the earth with woe,
And creatures fade and die;

Lord, wean our hearts from things below,
And fix our hopes on high!

451.

L. M.

WATTS.

Death a Blessing to the Righteous.

1 Do flesh and nature dread to die?

And timorous thoughts our minds enslave?
But grace can raise our hopes on high,
And quell the terrors of the grave.

2 Do we not dwell in clouds below,
And little know the God we love?
Why should we like this twilight so,
When 't is all noon in worlds above?

3 When we put off this fleshly load, We're from a thousand mischiefs free, Forever present with our God,

Where we have longed and wished to be.

4 No more shall pride or passion rise,
Or envy fret, or malice roar,

Or sorrow mourn with downcast eyes,
And sin defile our eyes no more.

5 'Tis best, 't is infinitely best,

To go where tempters cannot come,
Where saints and angels, ever blest,
Dwell and enjoy their heavenly home.

6 O for a visit from my God,

To drive my fears of death away,

And help me through this darksome road, To realms of everlasting day!

355

452.

C. M.

WATTS.

Triumphant over Death.

1 GREAT God, I own the sentence just, And nature must decay;

I yield my body to the dust,

To dwell with fellow clay.

2 Yet faith may triumph o'er the grave,
And trample on the tombs;

My Jesus, my Redeemer lives,
My God, my Saviour comes.

3 The mighty Conqueror shall appear
High on a royal seat,

And death, the last of all his foes,
Lie vanquished at his feet.

453.

L. M.

BROWNE.

Fear of Death overcome.

1 I CANNOT shun the stroke of death-
Lord, help me to surmount the fear;
That when I must resign my breath,
Serene my summons I may hear.

2 T is sin gives venom to the dart—
In me let every sin be slain;

From secret faults, Lord, cleanse my heart,
From wilful sins my hands restrain.

3 May I, my God, with holy zeal,
Closely the ends of life pursue,
Seek thy whole pleasure to fulfil,
And honor thee in all I do!

4 Let all my bliss and treasure lie
Where in thy light I light shall see;
The soul may freely dare to die,
That longs to be possessed of thee.

5 Say thou art mine, and chase the gloom
Thick hanging o'er the vale of death;
Then shall I fearless meet my doom,
And as a victor yield my breath.

454.

11s. M.

EPISCOPAL COL.

I would not live alway.

1 I WOULD not live alway: I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the

way:

I would not live alway: no, welcome the tomb, Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. 2 Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode ! Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns; 3 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet; While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the life of the soul!

455.

C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

God our Support in Death. Ps. 38.

1 My soul! the awful hour will come,

Apace it hastens on,

To bear this body to the tomb,

And thee to scenes unknown.

2 My heart, long laboring with its cares,
Shall pant and sink away;

And you, mine eyelids, soon shall close,
On the last glimmering ray.

3 Whence in that hour shall I derive
A cordial for my pain,

When, if earth's monarchs were my friends,
Those friends would weep in vain?

4 Great King of nature and of grace!
To thee my spirit flies,
And opens all its deep distress
Before thy pitying eyes.

5 All its desires to thee are known,
And every secret fear;

The meaning of each broken groan
Is noticed by thine ear.

6 O fix me by that mighty power
Which to such love belongs,

Where darkness veils the eyes no more,
And sighs are changed to songs.

456.

C. M.

WATTS.

Submission to afflictive Providences.

1 NAKED as from the earth we came,
And crept to life at first,
We to the earth return again,
And mingle with our dust.

2 The dear delights we here enjoy,
And fondly call our own,

Are but short favors borrowed now,
To be repaid anon.