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2 LO! He beckons from on high :

Fearless to His presence fly.
Thine the merit of His blood,
Thine the righteousness of God.
Angels, joyful to attend,
Hovering, round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,

And escort thee quick to heaven. 3 Is thine earthly house distressed,

Willing to retain its guest ?
"Tis not thou, but it, must die,
Fly, celestial tenant, fly.
Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay ;
Sweetly breathe thyself away ;
Singing, to thy crown remove,

Swift of wing, and fired with love. 4 Shudder not to pass the stream;

Venture all thy care on Him;
Him whose dying love and power
Stilled its tossing, hushed its roar.
Safe is the expanded wave;
Gentle as a summer's eve.
Not one object of His care

Ever suffered shipwreck there. 5 See the haven full in view;

Love divine shall bear thee through.
Trust to that propitious gale;
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail."
Saints in glory perfect made,
Wait thy passage through the shade :
Ardent for thy coming o'er,

See, they throng the blissful shore. 6 Mount, their transports to improve;

Join the longing choir above;
Swiftly to their wish be given;
Kindle higher joy in heaven.-
Such the prospects that arise
To the dying Christian's eyes ;
Such the glorious vista, faith
Opens through the shades of death.

652
Acts vil. 59.

P. M. 1 TWho cercak'strin love this mortal chain:

Thee, O Lord, I spirit,
My life I but from Thee inherit,

And death becomes my chiefest gain.
In Thee I live, in Thee I die,
Content, for Thou art ever nigh.

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So calm the righteous sink away,

Descending to the tomb. 2 The winds breathe low,-the yellow leaf

Scarce whispers from the tree; So gently flows the parting breath,

When good men cease to be. 3 How beautiful on all the hills

The crimson light is shed ! 'Tis like the peace the dying gives

To mourners round his bed.
4 How mildly on the wandering cloud

The sunset beam is cast !
So sweet the memory left behind,

When loved ones breathe their last. 5 And lo! above the dews of night

The vesper-star appears ;
So faith lights up the mourner's heart,

Whose eyes are dim with tears.
6 Night falls, but soon the morning light

Its glories shall restore ;
And thus the eyes that sleep in death

Shall wake, to close no more.

654 Isalah XXV. 8. L. M. ELLIOIt's SEL. 10

GRAVE, thou hast the victory;

Beauty and strength are laid with thee; Yet than earth's mightiest, mightier,

O grave, thou hast thy Vanquisher. 2 Long in thy sight was man forlorn;

Long didst thou laugh his hope to scorn Till rose the Conqueror of death,

Jesus, the Man of Nazareth.
3 He stood between us and despair;

He bore, and gave us strength to bear;
The mysteries of the grave unsealed,

Our glorious destiny revealed.
4 Our home is not this mortal clime;

Our life has not its bounds in time;
And death is but a cloud that lies
Between the soul and paradise.

HIS FINAL PEACE.

655 Matt. xxv. 21. D. S. M. MONTGOMERY.

SI

1 YERVANT of God, well done!

Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, the victory won,

Enter thy Master's joy.
The voice at midnight came;

He started up to hear;
A mortal arrow pierced his frame;

He fell, but felt no fear.

2

At midnight came the cry,

"To meet thy God prepare !" He woke,--and caught his Captain's eye;

Then strong in faith and prayer,

His spirit with a bound,

Left its encumbering clay ;
His tent at sunrise on the ground,

A darkened ruin lay.
3 The pains of death are past;

Labour and sorrow cease;
And life's long warfare closed at last,

His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ, well done!

Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,

Rest in thy Saviour's joy.

656
HARP ,

2 Tim. ii. 12. 8.7. C. WESLEY, 1

All thy mourning days below:
Go, by angel guards attended ;

To the throne of Jesus go.
Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Claims the purchase of His merit,

Reaches out the crown of love.
2 Struggle through thy latest passion,

To thy dear Redeemer's breast;
To His uttermost salvation,

To His everlasting rest.
For the joy He sets before thee,

Bear a momentary pain :
Die, to live a life of glory;

Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.
657
Rev. xiv. 13.

C. M.

WATTS. 1 EAR what the voice from heaven HEA

proclaims
For all the pious dead;
Sweet is the savour of their names,

And soft their sleeping bed.

2 They sleep in Jesus, and are bless'd;

How kind their slumbers are !
From sufferings and from sins released,

And freed from every snare.
3 Far from this world of toil and strife,

They're present with the Lord;
The labours of their mortal life

End in a large reward.

658

H dies !

Psalm xxxvii. 37. L. M. BARBAULD. 1

When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes,

How gently heaves th' expiring breast ! 2 So fades a summer cloud away;

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;

So dies a wave along the shore. 3 A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys :
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,

Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,

Where lights and shades alternate dwell : How bright the unchanging morn appears!

Farewell, inconstant world, farewell! 6 Life's labour done, as sinks the clay,

Light from its load the spirit flies ; While heaven and earth combine to say, How blest the righteous when he dies!

659 Heb. iv. 9.

C. M.

NEWTON,

1

I paint

The moment after death;
The glories that surround the saints,

When yielding up their breath.

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