And thou, my soul, look downward too,
And sing recov❜ring grace.

5 He is a God of sov'reign love,

That promis'd heav'n to me!

And taught my thoughts to soar above,
Where happy spirits be.

6 Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand,
Then come the joyful day;

1

Come, death, and some celestial band,
To bear my soul away.

HYMN 124. C. M.

Funeral hymn.-Dying in the embraces of God.
EATH cannot make our souls afraid,
If God be with us there;

D

We may walk thro' its darkest shade,
And never yield to fear.

2 I could renounce my all below,
If my Creator bid;

And run, if I were call'd to go,

And die as Moses did.

3 Might I but climb to Pisgah's top,
And view the promis'd land;
My flesh itself would long to drop,
And pray for the command.

4 Clasp'd in my heav'nly Father's arms,
I would forget my breath;

And lose my life amid the charms
Of so divine a death.

1

S

HYMN 125. C. M.

Funeral hymn.-Death and Eternity.

TOOP down, my thoughts that use to
Converse awhile with death;

[rise,

Think how a gasping mortal lies,
And pants away his breath.

2 His quiv'ring lips hang feebly down,
His pulses faint and few,

Then speechless, with a doleful groan,
He bids the world adieu.

3 But, O the soul that never dies!
At once it leaves the clay!

Ye thoughts pursue it where it flies,
And trace its wondrous way.

4 Up to the courts where angels dwell,
It mounts triumphant there;
Or devils plunge it down to hell,
In infinite despair.

5 And must my body faint and die?
And must this soul remove?
O! for some guardian angel nigh,
To bear it safe above.

6 Jesus, to thy dear faithful hand
My naked soul I trust;

My flesh shall wait for thy command,
And drop into my dust.

HYMN 126. C. M.

Funeral hymn.-Victory over Death.

WE

HEN death appears before my sight
In all his dire array;

Unequal to the dreadful fight,

My courage dies away.

2 But see, my glorious friend is nigh!
My Lord, my Saviour lives:

Before him death's pale terrors fly,
And my faint heart revives.

3 He left his dazzling throne above
To meet the tyrant's dart;
And, O amazing pow'r of love!
Receiv'd it in his heart!

4 Now for the eye of faith divine
To pierce beyond the grave!
To see that Friend, and call him mine,
Whose arm is strong to save.

5 Lord, I commit my soul to thee;
Accept the sacred trust;
Receive this nobler part of me,
And watch my sleeping dust:

6 Till that illustrious morning come,
When all thy saints shall rise,
And cloth'd in full, immortal bloom,
Attend thee to the skies.

7 When thy triumphant armies sing
The honour of thy name;
And heav'n's eternal arches ring
With glory to the Lamb:

8 O let me join th' enraptur'd lays,
And with the blissful throng,
Resound salvation, pow'r, and praise,
In everlasting song!

1

HYMN 127. C. M.

Funeral Hymn.-Death of a young child.
LAS! how chang'd that lovely flow'r,
Which bloom'd and cheer'd my heart

Fair fleeting comfort of an hour,

How soon we're call'd to part!

2 And shall my bleeding heart arraign That God, whose ways are love?

Or vainly cherish anxious pain
For her who rests above?
3 No!-let me rather humbly pay
Obedience to his will,

And with my inmost spirit say,
"The Lord is righteous still."

4 From adverse blasts, and low'ring storms,
Her favour'd soul he bore;
And with yon bright, angelic forms,
She lives, to die no more.

5 Why should I vex my heart, or fast?
No more she'll visit me;

My soul will mount to her at last,
And there my child I'll see.

6 Prepare me, blessed Lord, to share
The bliss thy people prove;
Who round thy glorious throne appear,
And dwell in perfect love.

HYMN 128. C. M.

Funeral Hymn.-Comfort for pious Parents bereaved of their Children.

YE

[tears

1 VE mourning saints, whose streaming
Flow o'er your children dead;
Say not in transports of despair,
That all your hopes are fled.

2 If cleaving to that darling dust,
In fond distress ye lie,

Rise, and with joy and rev'rence view
A heav'nly parent nigh.

Tho', your young branches torn away,
Like wither'd trunks ye stand;

With fairer verdure shall ye bloom,
Touch'd by the Almighty's hand.

4 "I'll give the mourner," saith the Lord,
"In my own house a place:

"No names of daughters nor of sons
"Could yield so high a grace.

5 "Transient and vain is ev'ry hope
"A rising race can give:
"In endless honour and delight
"My children all shall live."

وو

6 We welcome, Lord, those rising tears, Thro' which thy face we see;

[hearts And bless those wounds, which thro' our Prepare a way for thee.

HYMN 129. C. M.

Funeral Hymn.-Submission under bereaving providences.

1

PE

EACE, 'tis the Lord Jehovah's hand
That blasts our joys in death;

Changes the visage once so dear,
And gathers back the breath.

2 'Tis he, the Potentate supreme
Of all the worlds above,

Whose steady counsels wisely rule,
Nor from their purpose move.

3 'Tis he, whose justice might demand
Our souls a sacrifice;

Yet scatters with unwearied hand
A thousand rich supplies.

4 Our cov❜nant God and Father he
In Christ our bleeding Lord;

Whose grace can heal the bursting heart
With one reviving word.