389.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,"
Sin's awful curse demands;

O, well, if pure before the throne
The soul accepted stands.

390.

Infinite joy, or endless woe,
Attend on every breath,

And yet how unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death!

391.

God only can true comfort give
To mourning spirits while we live;
He only, when we yield our breath,
Can guide us through the vale of death.

392.

In each mournful visitation

On this sweet assurance rest,
Whatsoe'er the dispensation,
God's decree is always best.

393.

Mortal, improve the hours you have,
Before the day of grace be fled;
There's no repentance in the grave,
Nor pardon offered to the dead.

394.

* Reader! the human dust beneath thy feet

Shall one day rise again,—so shall thine own, And thou and he shall glad or trembling meet Before the great white throne.

J. A. F.

395.

Oh, learn, ye living! by the mouths be taught

Of all these sepulchres, instructors true,

That soon or late, death also is your lot,

And the next opening grave may yawn for you.

396.

Read, ye that run, this awful truth,
Soon must ye quit life's stage;
A worm is in the bud of youth,
And at the root of age.

397.

O Reader, ere the darksome tomb
Shall cover thee from every eye,
To thee may heavenly wisdom come
And fit thee both to live and die.

398.

To die, O Reader, dost thou fear?
And wouldst thou longer stay?
Thou hast incurred a long arrear;
Nor hast wherewith to pay?
Pay!-follow Christ and all is paid,
His death your peace secures;
Think on the grave where He was laid,
And calm descend to yours.

399.

He lives, who lives to God alone,
And all are dead beside;

For other source than God is none

Whence life can be supplied.

400.

Lord! fix our hearts on things above,
Since all below to ruin tends;

If here we trust, believe, and love,

There we shall meet our Christian Friends.

401.

O Reader, get thy peace secured,

Whilst thou hast life and breath;

Believe in Christ, or be assured
Thine end's eternal death;
Sad period to a pleasant course!
Yet so will God repay

Sabbaths profaned without remorse,

And mercy cast away.

402.

How oft doth youth, all healthful and at ease, Look on to pleasant days it never sees;

And many a tomb, like this, proclaims aloud, "Oh, youth, prepare thee for an early shroud!"

403.

* Strangers and Pilgrims here on earth,
Fed by our Fathers' God,

We nothing brought with us at birth,
At death need but a sod;

But endless bliss, or ceaseless woe,
Must follow life's brief span,

As each has fixed his lot below,

And lived to God or man.

404.

Turn, mortal, turn, thy soul apply
To truths divinely given;

The bones that underneath thee lie

Shall live for hell or heaven.

L.

405.

Life is a span, a fleeting hour,
That like a vapour flies;
Man is a tender, transient flower,
That e'en in blooming dies:
Faith looks beyond the bounds of time,
When those we now deplore
Shall rise in full immortal prime,
And bloom to fade no more.

406.

Reader, would'st thou ask us why
In the gloomy grave we lie?

Man must die because of sin,

Let thy conscience wake within.—

Fain we would that thou should'st know

How to value things below.

Take this solemn warning home,

Flee thou from the wrath to come.

407.

Time passeth swift away,

The voice of warning hear;

Prepare, while it is called to-day,

For night is surely near.

Hell waits thee if thy course be run

Before the work of faith be done.

408.

Man, wouldst thou live? God's holy Book shall tell
Where life's best joys and truest pleasures dwell:

Man, thou must die!—ah, prize that sacred lore
Which points to worlds where death can wound no more.
Living or dying, that would soothe thy pain,
Whispering " To live is Christ, to die is gain.”

409.

So generations pass; and earth its due

Receives; and, Reader, waits for yours and you.
Prepare; and know—the path of duty, trod
Divinely, leads to happiness and God.

410.

Walk in the light! and e'en the tomb
No fearful shade shall wear;
Glory shall chase away its gloom,
For Christ hath conquered there.

411.

* Our lot for ever fixed by death,

Repentance will avail no more;
Mortal, ere called to yield thy breath,
From thine offended God implore

That pardon which through Christ is given
To all whose spirits enter heaven.

412.

In vain does Reason boast her power
To teach her children how to die;
The sinner in a dying hour

Needs more than Reason can supply:
True faith in Christ, the sinner's Friend,
Alone can cheer him in his end.

L.

Miscellaneous.

413.

Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. Gen.

iii. 19.