1093

L. M.
Day dawns on the night of the grave.
HALL man, O God of light and life,

Canst thou forget thy glorious work,

Thy promise, and thy power, to save ? 2 In those dark, silent realms of night

Shall peace and hope no more arise ? No future morning light the tomb,

Nor day-star gild the darksome skies? 3 Cease-cease, ye vain, desponding fears :

When Christ, our Lord, from darkness sprang, , Death, the last foe, was captive led,

And heaven with praise and wonder rang. 4 Faith sees the bright, eternal doors

Unfold, to make his children way; They shall be clothed with endless life,

And shine in everlasting day. 5 The trump shall sound—the dead shall wake;

From the cold tomb the slumb'rers spring; Through heaven, with joy, their myriads rise, And hail their Saviour and their King. 1094

C. M. Certainty of the resurrection dispels the gloom of the grave.

THY do we mourn for dying friends,

Or shake at death's alarms ?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,

To call them to his arms.
2 Are we not tending upward too,

As fast as time can move ?
Nor should we wish the hours more slow,

To keep us from our love.
3 Why should we tremble to convey

Their bodies to the tomb ?
There once the flesh of Jesus lay,

And left a long perfume.

WHY

THAmid the deep'ning gloom,

4 The graves of all his saints he blest,

And soften'd every bed :
Where should the dying members rest,

But with their dying Head ?
5 Thence he arose, ascending high,

And show'd our feet the way : Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,

At the great rising day. 6 Then let the last, loud trumpet sound,

And bid our kindred rise : Awake, ye nations under ground;

Ye saints, ascend the skies. 1095

C. M. Awaking from the dust with shouts of praise. THROUGH sorrow's night, and danger's path.

, We, follwers of our suff'ring Lord,

Are marching to the tomb. 2 There, when the turmoil is no more,

And all our powers decay, Our cold remains in solitude

Shall sleep the years away. 3 Our labours done, securely laid

In this our last retreat, Unheeded, o'er our silent dust,

The storms of earth may beat.
4 Yet not thus buried, or extinct,

The vital spark shall lie;
For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise

To seek its kindred sky.
5 These ashes, too, this little dust,

Our Father's care shall keep, Till the last angel rise and break

The long and dreary sleep.

a

1096

S. M. Sown a natural body, raised a spiritual body. ND must this body die

This well-wrought frame decay ? And must these active limbs of mine

Lie mould’ring in the clay ?
2 Corruption, earth, and worms,

Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes

To put it on afresh.
3 God my Redeemer lives,

And ever from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.
4 Array'd in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine, And every shape, and every face,

Be heavenly and divine.
5 These lively hopes we owe,

Lord, to thy dying love:
O may we bless thy grace below,

And sing thy grace above! 6 Saviour, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise

With our immortal tongues. 1097

L. M. Sown in weakness, raised in glory. HE morning flowers display their sweets,

And gay their silken leaves unfold, As careless of the noontide heats,

As fearless of the evening cold. 2 Nipp'd by the wind's untimely blast,

Parch'd by the sun's directer ray, The momentary glories waste,

The short-lived beauties die away.

3 So blooms the human face divine,

When youth its pride of beauty shows. Fairer than spring the colours shine,

And sweeter than the virgin rose. 4 Or worn by slowly-rolling years,

Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory disappears,

The short-lived beauties die away. 5 Yet these, new rising from the tomb,

With lustre brighter far shall shine, Revive with ever-during bloom,

Safe from diseases and decline. 6 Let sickness blast, let death devour,

If heaven must recompense our pains; Perish the grass, and fade the flower,

If firm the word of God remains.

OW

1098

S. M.
The pledge of immortality.
UR great Creator, God,

Who built this house of clay,
Can re-inspire the breathless clod,

In his appointed day.
From dust he form'd us man,

And shall we doubt his power ?
No, surely the Almighty can

Our moulder'd dust restore.

2 Who breathed into our earth

The breath of life divine,
Can, by a new celestial birth,

God and the sinner join :
Thus we the pledge receive

Of immortality,
Sure that our bodies too shall live

Forever one with thee.

1099

1st P. M. 6 lines 8s.
In my flesh shall I see God.
CALL the world's Redeemer mine;

He lives who died for me, I know,-
Who bought my soul with blood divine:

Jesus shall re-appear below,Stand in that dreadful day unknown, And fix on earth his heavenly throne. 2 Then the last judgment-day shall come;

And though the worms this skin devour, The Judge shall call me from the tomb,

Shall bid the greedy grave restore,
And raise this individual me,
God in the flesh, my God, to see.
3 In this identic body, I,

With eyes of flesh refined, restored,
Shall see that self-same Saviour nigh,

See for myself my smiling Lord; See with ineffable delight, Nor faint to bear the glorious sight. 4 Then let the worms demand their prey,

The greedy grave my reins consuine;
With joy I drop my mould'ring clay,

And rest till my Redeemer come;
On Christ my life, in death rely,
Secure that I can never die.
1100

C. M.
Exulting in the final victory.
THEN the last trumpet's awful voice

This rending earth shall shake,When opening graves shall yield their charge,

And dust to life awake,-
2 Those bodies that corrupted fell

Shall incorrupt arise,
And mortal forms shall spring to life

Immortal in the skies.