Each season has its own disease,
Its peril ev'ry hour.

3 Turn, mortal, turn!-thy danger know
Where'er thy foot can tread,

mp The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead!

4 Turn, christian, turn!-thy soul apply
To truths, which hourly tell,

That they, who underneath thee lie,

Shall live, for heav'n,-or hell! PRATT'S COLL.

475.

S. M.
Death.

Boylston. Utica.

f

1 TO pass through death to life

Is dark and dang'rous way;

Yet who would shun the fearful strife,
That doth that life survey?

2 In all its amplitude

Where ocean is outspread,

I've often, musing, wond'ring stood
With awe and mighty dread.

9 I've seen

the surges dash ;

I've heard the ceaseless roar,

As on the rocks, with foaming crash,
They break along the shore.

mp 4 But far beyond the surge
I see the calm, blue deep;
To peril there no billows urge,
And terror there doth sleep.

5 Once on the calm, blue sea,
The rocks we dread no more ;-
O, calm and blest ETERNITY!
An ocean without shore!

ALLEN.

476.

C. M.

Kendall. St. Johns.

The Christian's Farewell.

1 YE golden lamps of heav'n, adieu,
With all your feeble light ;

And, changing moon, farewell to you,
Pale empress of the night.

mf 2 And thou, refulgent orb of day, In brighter flames arrayed,

My soul, that springs beyond thy ray,
No more demands thy aid.

3 Ye stars are but the shining floor &

Of my divine abode,

The lowly pavement, and no more,-
Oftemple of my God!

4 The Father of eternal light
Shall there his beams display;
And ever clear, and fair, and bright
Shall be that endless day!

mf 5 There all his saints, with praises due,
Shall in one song unite;

And each the bliss of all shall view
With sweetness of delight. DODDRIDGE.

477.

(ii. 52.) C. M.

Elgin. Bangor,

Death dreadful or delightful.

1 DEATH! 't is a melancholy day,
To those, who have no God,
When the poor soul is forc'd away
To seek her last abode.

2 In vain to heav'n she lifts her eyes,
For guilt, a heavy chain,

Still drags her downward from the skies

> To darkness, fire, and pain.

mp 3 Then, sinners, flee the path to hell,
Th'abyss of deep despair,

Lest ye be driv'n from earth, to dwell
A long FOREVER there!

mf 4 Blest be the God of sov'reign love,
Who promis'd heav'n to me,

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

Aff 5 Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand,
Then come the joyful day;

Come, death, and some celestial band

To bear my soul away!

WATTS.

478.

(ii. 28.)

C. M.

Elgin. Bangor.

Death and Eternity.

1 STOOP down, my thoughts, from fancy's flight,
Converse awhile with death,-

A gasping mortal in thy sight,
Who pants away his breath!

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

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

f 3 Up to the courts, where angels dwell,
It mounts triumphant there,

mp

►

mf

Or down it sinks, where Satan fell,
In dark and deep despair.

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

Aff 5 JESUS! to thy strong, faithful hand
My naked soul I trust;

My mould'ring flesh, at thy command,
Shall rise up from the dust!

WATTS.

479.

(ii, 61.)

C. M.

Colchester. Canterbury.

Death and Glory.

1 MY soul, come, meditate the day,

And think, how near it stands,

When thou must quit this house of clay,
And fly to unknown lands.

2 O, could we die with those, who die,
And place us in their stead;

Then should we mount to yonder sky,
To join the righteous dead.

3 Then should we see the saints above
In their own glorious forms,

And wonder, why our souls should love
To dwell with mortal worms.

WATTS.

480.

mp

aff

481.

The Issues of Life and Death.

1 O, WHERE shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?

'Tis vain the ocean-depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole:

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.

2 Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasur'd by the flight of years,
And all that life is love:
There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath;
O what eternal horrors hang
Around the "second death!"

3 Lord God of truth and grace,
Teach us that death to shun,
Lest we be banish'd from thy face,
And evermore undone ;

Here would we end our quest;
Alone are found in Thee'

The life of perfect love,-the rest
Of Immortality!

MONTGOMERY,

1 MAN is the child of wo,

His days are fill'd with care,

Till scythe shall lay his blossoms low,
And all his pride o'erbear.

2 The tree will sprout again,

Though struck by feller's blow;
But man, will he his growth regain,
When in the grave laid low?

3 Man wastes away, and dies,
And crumbles in the ground;
His freed, immortal spirit flies,
Nor here again is found.

4 His sleep beneath the clod

Is calm, and shall be so,

Till comes the judgment day from God,
When earth in flames shall glow!

ALLEN.

Ramoth. 97th Psalm.

Triumph over Death.

1 WHY should we start and fear to die?
What tim❜rous worms we, mortals, are!

mf Death is the gate of endless joy;
And yet we dread to enter there.

mf

2 The pains, the groans, the dying strife
Fright our approaching souls away;
We still shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 0, if my Lord to me would come,
My soul in haste should stretch her wings,
And fly, rejoicing, to her home,

As sky-lark, mounting upward, sings!

mp 4 JEsus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are,

mf

While, strong in faith, and free from dread,

mp> I breathe my life out sweetly there!

WATTS.

483.

(ii. 3.)

C. M.

Mear. China.

Death of a Saint.

1 WHY weep we for departing friends?
Or shake at death's alarms?

"T is but the voice, that Jesus sends,
To call them to his arms.

2 Are we not tending upward too,

As fast, as time can move?

Nor would we wish the hours more slow,

To keep us from our Love.

3 Why should we tremble to convey

Their bodies to the tomb?

There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
In silence and in gloom.

4 The graves of all the saints He bless'd,
And soften'd ev'ry bed: