2 Who are the dead?-The sons of time In ev'ry age, and state, and clime; Renown'd, dishonor'd or forgot, The place that knew them, knows them not. 3 Where are the living ?-On the ground Where pray'r is heard and mercy found; Where in the compass of a span, The mortal makes th' immortal man. 1 HYMN 165. C. M Death of a Youth. W By death's resistless hand, HEN blooming youth is snatch'd away Our hearts the mournful tribute pay, 2 While pity prompts the rising sigh, With awful pow'r-I too must die- 3 Let this vain world engage no more: It bids us seize the present hour! 4 The voice of this alarming scene Nor be the heav'nly warning vain, 5 O let us fly, to Jesus fly, 1 Whose pow'rful arm can save; HYMN 166. L. M. The death of the righteous. HOW bless'd the righteous when he dies, 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 ; 3 A holy quiet reigns around, A calm which life, nor death destroys; 4 Farewell, conflicting hopes, and fears, 1 HYMN 167. L. M. NVEIL thy bosom, faithful tomb, 2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear Prospect of the resurrection. 1HRO' sorrow's night and danger's path, Amid the deep'ning gloom, We, soldiers of an injur❜d King, Are marching to the tomb. 2 There when the turmoil is no more, 4 These ashes poor, this little dust, Till the last angel rise, and break 1 Then love's soft dew o'er ev'ry eye And the long silent dust shall burst HYMN 169. L. M. Christ's coming to Judgment. HE Lord shall come, the earth shall quake A silent lamb before his foes, 3 The Lord shall come ! a dreadful form, 4 Can this be He, who wont to stray, 5 While sinners in despair shall call, 1 'MID Heaven. HYMN 170. P. M. 11. The Christian's Home. ID scenes of confusion and creature complaints, How sweet to my soul is communion with'saints; To find at the banquet of mercy there's room, And feel in the presence of Jesus at home. 2 Sweet bonds that unite all the children of peace! And thrice precious Jesus, whose love cannot cease! Though oft from thy presence in sadness I roam, I long to behold thee, in glory at home. 3 I sigh from this body of sin to be free, Which hinders my joy and communion with thee; Though now my temptations like billows may foam, All, all will be peace, when I'm with thee at home. 4 While here in the valley of conflict I stay, O give me submission and strength as my day; In all my afflictions to thee would I come, Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home. 5 Whate'er thou deniest, O give me thy grace, The Spirit's sure witness, and smiles of thy face; Indulge me with patience to wait at thy throne, And find even now a sweet foretaste of home. 6 I long, dearest Lord, in thy beauties to shine, No more as an exile in sorrow to pine, 1 And in thy dear image, arise from the tomb, With glorified millions to praise thee, at home. HYMN 171. C. M. The heavenly Jerusalem anticipated. JERUSALEM, my happy home, Name ever dear to me ; When shall my labors have an end, 2 When shall these eyes thy heav'n-built walls, And pearly gates behold? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, 3 O when, thou city of my God, Where congregations ne'er break up, 4 There happier bow'rs than Eden's bloom, Bless'd seats, through wild and stormy scenes, I onward press to you. 5 Apostles, martyrs, prophets there, And soon my friends in Christ below, 6 Jerusalem, my happy home! My soul still pants for thee, Then shall my labors have an end, When I thy joy shall see. HYMN 172. P. M. 7 Saints in Heaven. H'Dwell the raptur'd saints above IGH in yonder realms of light, Far beyond our feeble sight, Stealing down the furrow'd cheek, Tales of wo they could not speak. 3 'Mid the chorus of the skies, 'Mid th' angelic lyres above, Hark-their songs melodious rise, Songs of praise to Jesus, love! Happy spirits! ye are fled, Where no grief can entrance find, Lull'd to rest the aching head, Sooth'd the anguish of the mind! 4 All is tranquil and serene, Calm and undisturb'd reposeThere no cloud can interveneThere no angry tempest blows! Ev'ry tear is wip'd away, Sighs no more shall heave the breast! Night is lost in endless day Sorrows-in eternal rest! DOXOLOGIES. O God the Father; God the Son, Be honor, praise, and glory given, PRAIS 2. L. M. ORAISE God from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host, 3. C. M. NO Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Be glory as it was, is now, |