2 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest! Whose waking is supremely blest; 3 Asleep in Jesus! oh! how sweet a a 4 Asleep in Jesus! oh! for me May such a blissful slumber be! 379 P. M. Comfort when Christian friends depart. 1 Cor. xv, 19-22, 55-57. I Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; Thy Saviour has pass'd through its portals before thee, And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom. 2 Thou art gone to the grave! we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side; But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, for the Sinless has died. 3 Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking, Perchance thy weak spirit in fear linger'd long; But the mild rays of Paradise beam'd on thy waking, And the sound, which thou heard'st, was the Seraphim's song. 4 Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Whose God was thy Ransom, thy Guardian, and Guide; He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee; And death has no sting, for the Saviour has died. 380 C. M. 1 IN VAIN our fancy strives to paint The moment after death, When yielding up their breath. 2 One gentle sigh their fetters breaks; We scarce can say: They're gone Her mansion near the throne. 3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail, To trace her in her flight; Which hides that world of light. 4 Thus much-and this is all-we know, They are completely blest; And with their Saviour rest. 5 On harps of gold they praise his Name, His face they always view; That we may praise Him too. 381 L. M. Tumultuous passions all be still; His ways are just, his counsels wise. Performs his work, the cause conceals; Judgment and truth support his throne. He executes his firm decrees; That what He does is ever best. Prostrate before his awful seat; 382 C. M. Ps. xc, 12. Matt. xxiv, 42-44. By death's resistless hand, Affection must demand. 2 While sorrow prompts the rising sigh, With awful power impress'd, Sink deep in every breast. Behold the opening tomb! To-morrow death may come. May every heart obey; Which calls to watch and pray. 5 Oh! let us fly, to Jesus fly, Whose arm alone can save; And triumph o'er the grave. 383 6-8's. Christ our hope in death. Job xix, 25-27. Acts vii, 55-60. 1 Cor. xv, 35. 1 LET reason vainly boast her pow'r To teach her children how to die; |