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2 Are we not tending upward too, As fast as time can move?

Why should we wish the hours more slow,
That keep us from our love?

3 Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb?

There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And sanctified its gloom.

4 The graves of all his saints He bless'd,
And soften'd ev'ry bed:

Where should the dying members rest,
But with the dying Head?

5 Thence He arose, ascending high,
And shew'd our feet the way:
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly
At the great rising day.

378

L. M.

Asleep in Jesus.

John xi, 11. 1 Thess. iv, 14.

1 ASLEEP in Jesus! blessed sleep!
From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturb'd repose,

Unruffled by the last of foes!

G G

2 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest!
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No tear nor cloud shall dim the hour,
That manifests a Saviour's power.

3 Asleep in Jesus! oh! how sweet
To be for such a slumber meet;
With humble confidence to sing,
That death hath lost its venom'd sting!

4 Asleep in Jesus! oh! for me May such a blissful slumber be! Securely shall my ashes lie,

Waiting the summons from on high.

379

P.M.

Comfort when Christian friends depart.

1 Cor. xv, 19-22, 55-57.

1 THOU art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;

Thy Saviour has pass'd through its portals before thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

2 Thou art gone to the grave! we no longer behold thee,

Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side;

But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,

And sinners may hope, for the Sinless has died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking,

Perchance thy weak spirit in fear linger'd long;

But the mild rays of Paradise beam'd on thy waking,

And the sound, which thou heard'st, was the Seraphim's song.

4 Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Whose God was thy Ransom, thy Guardian, and Guide;

He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee;

And death has no sting, for the Saviour has died.

380

C. M.

The soul's rapturous entrance into glory.
Luke xxiii, 43. 1 Cor. ii, 9. Rev. xiv, 18.

1 IN VAIN our fancy strives to paint
The moment after death,

The glories that surround the saints
When yielding up their breath.

2 One gentle sigh their fetters breaks;
We scarce can say:-They're gone-
Before the willing spirit takes

Her mansion near the throne.

8 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace her in her flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil,
Which hides that world of light.

4 Thus much-and this is all-we know,
They are completely blest;

Have done with care, and sin, and woe,
And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise his Name,
His face they always view;

Then let us follow'rs be of them,
That we may praise Him too.

381

L. M.

Submission.

1 Sam. iii, 18.

Job 1, 20, 21; xili, 15.

1 WAIT, O my soul! thy Maker's will;
Tumultuous passions all be still;
Nor let a murm'ring thought arise;
His ways are just, his counsels wise.
2 He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs his work, the cause conceals;
But, though his counsels are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.
3 In heaven, and earth, and air, and seas,
He executes his firm decrees;

And, by his saints it stands confess'd,
That what He does is ever best.

4 Wait then, my soul, submissive wait,
Prostrate before his awful seat;
Beneath the terrors of his rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.

382

Ps. xc, 12.

A warning from the tomb.

Matt. xxiv, 42-44.

1 WHEN youth or age is snatch'd away
By death's resistless hand,

Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Affection must demand.

C. M.

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