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S. M.
Solemn thoughts on the future.
ND am I born to die?

To lay this body down?
And must my trembling spirit fly

Into a world unknown ?-
A land of deepest shade,

Unpierced by human thought;
The dreary regions of the dead,

Where all things are forgot !
2 Soon as from earth I go,

What will become of me?
Eternal happiness or wo

Must then my portion be:
Waked by the trumpet's sound,

I from my grave shall rise,
And see the Judge, with glory crown'd,

And see the flaming skies!
3 How shall I leave my tomb-

With triumph or regret?
A fearful or a joyful doom,

A curse or blessing, meet?
Will angel bands convey

Their brother to the bar ?
Or devils drag my soul away,

To meet its sentence there? 4 Who can resolve the doubt

That tears my anxious breast ?
Shall I be with the damn'd cast out,

Or number'd with the blest?
I must from God be driven,

Or with my Saviour dwell; Must come at his command to heaven, Or else—depart to hell !



C. M.
A vice from the grave.
(ARK! from the tombs a doleful sound;

My ears, attend the cry :-
Ye living men, come view the ground

Where you must shortly lie.
2 Princes, this clay must be your bed,

In spite of all your towers ;
The tall, the wise, the reverend head,

Shall lie as low as ours.
3 Great God! is this our certain doom,

And are we still secure ?
Still walking downward to the tomb,

And yet prepared no more ?
4 Grant us the power of quick’ning grace,

To fit our souls to fly;
Then, when we drop this dying flesh,

We'll rise above the sky.



L. M. Christ's presence makes death easy. THY should we start, and fear to die?

What tim'rous worms we mortals are ! Death is the gate to endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there. 2 The pains, the groans, the dying strife,

Fright our approaching souls away; And we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prison and our clay. 30 would my Lord his servant meet,

My soul would stretch her wings in hasłe, Fly fearless through death’s iron gate,

Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd. 4 Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on bis breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.

C. M.


Death of children. NHY life I read, my gracious Lord,

With transport all divine; Thine image trace in every word,

Thy love in every line. 2 Methinks I see a thousand charms

Spread o'er thy lovely face, While infants in thy tender arms

Receive the smiling grace. 3 I take these little lambs, said he,

And lay them in my breast; Protection they shall find in me,

In me be ever blest. 4 Death may the bands of life unloose,

But can't dissolve my love; Millions of infant souls compose

The family above. 5 His words the happy parents hear,

And shout, with joys divine, O Saviour, all we have and are

Shall be forever thine. 1072

4th P. M. 886, 886. The momentous question. ND am I only born to die?

And must I suddenly comply With nature's stern decree? What after death for me remains ? Celestial joys, or hellish pains,

To all eternity. 2 How then ought I on earth to live, While God prolongs the kind reprieve,

And props the house of clay?
My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare

Against that fatal day.


3 No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,

If life so soon is gone;
If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before

The' inexorable throne !

4 No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment's misery or joy;

But, O! when both shall end,
Where shall I find my destined place ?
Shall I my everlasting days

With fiends or angels spend ?

5 Nothing is worth a thought beneath,
But how I may escape the death

That never, never dies !
How make mine own election sure;
And when I fail on earth, secure

A mansion in the skies.

6 Jesus, vouchsafe a pitying ray ;
Be thou my Guide, be thou my Way

To glorious happiness.
Ah! write the pardon on my heart;
And whensoe'er I hence depart,

Let me depart in peace.




10th P. M. 8 lines 8s. The grave disarmed of its terrors. AN dieth and wasteth away,

And where is he?-Hark! from the skies, I hear a voice answer and say,

The spirit of man never dies !
His body, which came from the earth,

Must mingle again with the sod;
His soul, which in heaven had birth,

Returns to the bosom of God.

2 No terror has death, or the grave,

To those who believe in the Lord Who know the Redeemer can save,

And lean on the faith of his word: While ashes to ashes, and dust

We give unto dust, in our gloom, The light of salvation we trust,

Which hangs like a lamp in the tomb. 3 O Lord God Almighty! to thee

We turn, as our solace above; The waters may fail from the sea,

But never thy fountains of love: O teach us thy will to obey,

And sing, with one heart and accord, He gave, and he taketh away,

And praised be the name of the Lord.

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C. M.
Victory over the fears of death.
FOR an overcoming faith,

To cheer my dying hours,--
To triumph o'er approaching death,

And all his frightful powers. 2 Joyful, with all the strength I have,

My quiv'ring lips should sing,-Where is thy boasted vict'ry, Grave?

And where, O Death, thy sting ? 3 If sin be pardon'd, I'm secure;

Death has no sting beside :
The law gives sin its damning power,

But Christ, my ransom, died. 4 Now to the God of victory

Immortal thanks be paid, Who makes us conqu’rors, while we die,

Through Christ, our living Head.

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