4 To ev'ry soul, the books assign No plea the Judge will here regard. DEATH AND HEAVEN. HYMN 590. C. M. COLLYER. Elgin, Windsor, Standish. 1 Sam. xv. 32. WHEN, bending o'er the brink of life, Waiting to pass death's awful flood, 2 When weeping friends surround my bed, And close my sightless eyes; When shatter'd by the weight of years 3 When ev'ry long lov'd scene of life When the last sigh that shakes the frame 4 O, thou great Source of joy supreme, 5 Lay thy supporting gentle hand 6 Leaning on thy dear faithful breast, And, in thy fond embraces, lose 1 AIN man, thy fond pursuits forbear; Repent!thy end is nigh! Death, at the farthest, can't be far- Reflect-thou hast a soul to save : 3 Death enters-and there's no defence- 4 Thy flesh, perhaps thy chiefest care, 5 To-day, the gospel calls;-to-day, HYMN 592. L. M. MONTGOMERY. Surry, Darwent, Putney. The living know, &c. Eccl. ix. 5. HERE are the dead?--In heav'n or hell W Their disembodied spirits dwell; 2 Who are the dead?-The sons of time The place that knew them knows them. not. 3 Where are the living ?-On the ground 4 Who are the living?- They whose breath Draws ev'ry moment nigh to death; Of endless bliss or wo the heirs: 5 Then, timely warn'd, let us begin HYMN 593. S. M. MONTGOMERY. Shirland, Berkley. OH, where shall rest be found, Rest for the weary soul ! "Twere vain the ocean's depths to sound, Or pierce to either pole. 2 The world can never give The bliss for which we sigh; "Tis not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die. 3 Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasur'd by the flight of yearsAnd all that life is love. 4 There is a death whose pang Outlasts the fleeting breath: Oh! what eternal horrors hang Around the second death. 5 Lord, God of truth and grace! 6. Here would we end our quest- The life of perfect love-the rest 1 HYMN 594. C. M. Springfield, Rochester, Bray. STEELE. Victory over death. 1 Cor. xv. 57. DEAR thy victo EAR Saviour, thy victorious love Can bid the pangs of guilt remove, 2 Victorious love! thy wond'rous pow'r 3 Then shall the joyful spirit soar Where gloomy death can frown no more, 4 No more, O pale Destroyer, boast To heav'n-born souls thy sting is lost- S HYMN 595. C. M. Springfield, Keene. Celestial prospects. WEET glories rush upon my sight, And charm my wond'ring eyes; The regions of immortal light, The beauties of the skies! 2 All hail! ye fair celestial shores, Ye lands of endless day; |