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THE CHRISTIAN LIFE:
THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 1186 I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.
Rev. 14. 13.
Happy are the faithful dead !
Jesus is their endless rest.
Hallowed, and made meet for heaven.
Of a saint in Christ deceased ?
“ A man is dead!”
Good and faithful servant thon;
Enter, and receive thy crown,
C. WESLEY. 1759.
1187 As is the heavenly
, such are they also that are
heavenly.-1 Cor. 15. 48.
IT is not death to die,
T is not death to die,
To leave this weary road,
To be at home with God.
It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
To spend eternal years.
It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free,
Of boundless liberty.
It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
To live among the just.
5 Jesus, Thou Prince of life,
Thy chosen cannot die;
G, W. BETHUNE. 1855.
He that overcometh.-Rev. 3. 5.
Strained cordage, shattered deck,
And only not a wreck;
To tell our voyage-perils o'er :
The wrestler nearly fell;
And bare not always well.
Who sets the victor-garland on. 3 No more the foe can harm,
No more of leaguered camp,
And need of ready lamp.
How nearly had the foe prevailed! 4 The lamb is in the fold,
In perfect safety penned ;
And thought to make an end.
And for the sheep the Shepherd died. 5 The exile is at home;
O nights and days of tears !
O sins and doubts and fears !
The King has wiped all tears away! 6 O happy, happy bride!
Thy widowed hours are past ;
The Bridegroom at thy side,
Thou all His own at last;
JOSEPH OF THE STUDIUM. 850.
TR. BY J. M. NEALE. 1862.
1189 And white robes were given unto them.
Rev. 6. 11.
1 CHO are these arrayed in white,
Brighter than the noon-day sun?
Followers of the dying God.
Washed their robes by faith below
God doth in His saints delight.
Here they find their trials o'er;
4 He that on the throne doth reign,
Them the Lamb shall always feed,
C. WESLEY. 1745.
THE CHRISTIAN LIFE:
THE BLESSEDNESS OF HEAVEN.
A door opened in heaven.-Rev. 4. 1. 1 O
To animate our feeble strains, From the bright realms of endless day,
The blissful realms where Jesus reigns. 2 There, low before His glorious throne,
Adoring saints and angels fall ;
His smile their bliss, their heaven, their all. 3 Immortal glories crown His head,
While tuneful Hallelujahs rise,
Through all the assemblies of the skies. 4 He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs
To boundless rapture as they gaze;
Resound His everlasting praise.
Shall join at last the heavenly choir :