6 Then, Saviour, then my soul receive, Transported from this vale to live, And reign with thee above! Where faith is sweetly lost in sight And hope, in full supreme delight, And everlasting love.
Hymn 255. C. M.
GOD! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.
2 Under the shadow of thy throne,
Still may we dwell secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.
3 Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth receiv'd her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.
4 A thousand ages in thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that euds the night,
Before the rising sun.
The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their cares and fears,
Are carried downward by the flood,
And lost in foll'wing years.
6 Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away,
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the op'ning day.
7 O God! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come;
Be thou our guard while life shall last,
And our perpetual homé.
Hymn 256. S. M.
ND must this body die,
This well-wrought frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mould'ring in the clay?
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.
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.
Saviour, accept the praise
Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sounds we raise
With our immortal tongues.
Hymn 257. C. M.
AND let this feeble body fail,
An let it faint or die;
My soul shall quit the mournful vale,
And soar to worlds on high:
Shall join the disembodied saints,
And find its long-sought rest:
That only bliss for which it pants
In the Redeemer's breast.
2 In hope of that immortal crown,
I now the cross sustain;
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain:
I suffer on my threescore years
Till my Deliv'rer come:
And wipe away his servant's tears,
And take his exile home.
3 O what hath Jesus bought for me!
Before my ravish'd eyes,
Rivers of life divine I see,
And trees of paradise!
I see a world of spirits bright,
Who taste the pleasures there!
They all are rob'd in spotless white,
And conqu'ring palms they bear.
4 O what are all my suff'rings here,
If, Lord, thou count me meet,
With that enraptur'd host t' appear,
And worship at thy feet!
Give joy or grief, give ease cr pain,
Take life or friends away:
But let me find them all again
In that eternal day.
Hymn 258. P. M.
HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below;
Go, by angel guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus go.
Waiting to receive thy spirit,
Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Shows the purchase of his merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.
2 Struggle through thy latest passion,
To thy great Redeemer's breast;
To his uttermost salvation,
To his everlasting rest.
For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die to live a life of glory;
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.
Hymn 259. P. M.
A what sight upon earth is so fair?
H! lovely appearance of death,
Not all the gay pageants that breathe
Can with a dead body compare :
With solemn delight I survey
The corpse when the spirit is fled;
In love with the beautiful clay,
And longing to lie in its stead.
? How blest is our brother, bereft
Of all that could burden his mind:
How easy the soul that has left
This wearisome body behind!
Of evil incapable thou,
Whose relics with envy I see,
No longer, in misery now,
No longer a sinner like me.
3 This earth is affected no more
With sickness, or shaken with pain;
The war in the members is o'er,
And never shall vex him again:
No anger, henceforward, or shame,
Shall redden this innocent clay:
Extinct is the animal flame,
And passion is vanish'd away.
4 This languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching are o'er ;
This quiet immoveable breast
Is heav'd by affliction no more:
This heart is no longer the seat
Of trouble and torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat,
It never shall flutter again.
5 The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Seal'd up in eternal repose,
Have strangely forgotten to weep: The fountains can yield no supplies; These hollows from water are free: The tears are all wip'd from these eyes, And evil they never shall see.
6 To mourn and to suffer is mine, While bound in a prison I breathe,
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