3 With it the thoughtless sons of men Before the rapid stream are borne On to their everlasting home,
Whence not one soul can e'er return.
4 Yet while the shore, on either side Presents a gaudy, flattering show, We gaze, in fond amazement lost, Nor think to what a world we go.
5 Great Source of wisdom! teach our hearts To know the price of every hour, That time may bear us on to joys Beyond its measure and its power.
Prayer for Support in Death.
1 WHEN, bending o'er the brink of life, My trembling soul shall stand, And wait to pass death's awful flood, Great God, at thy command,-
2 Thou Source of life and joy supreme, Whose arm alone can save, Dispel the darkness that surrounds The entrance to the grave.
3 Lay thy supporting, gentle hand Beneath my sinking head,
And let a beam of light divine Illume my dying bed.
1 WERE all our hopes and all our fears Confined within life's narrow bound; If, travellers through this vale of tears, We saw no better world beyond;
2 Did not a sunbeam break the gloom, And not a floweret smile beneath, Who could exist in such a tomb? Who dwell amid the shades of death?
3 And such were life without the ray
From our divine religion given :
'T is this that makes our darkness day, 'T is this that makes our earth a heave
4 Bright is the golden sun above, And beautiful the flowers that bloom, And all is joy, and all is love, Reflected from a world to come.
The Christian's Farewell.
1 YE golden lamps of heaven, farewell, With all your feeble light! Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, Pale empress of the night!
2 And thou, refulgent orb of day, In brighter flames arrayed!"
My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere, No more demands thy aid.
3 Ye stars are but the shining dust Of my divine abode,
The pavement of those heavenly courts Where I shall see my God.
4 The Father of eternal light
Will there his bears display;
Nor shall one moment's darkness blend With that unvaried day.
5 There all the millions of his saints Shall in one song unite;
And each the bliss of all shall view With infinite delight.
Religion our Guide in Life and Death.
1 THROUGH shades and solitudes profound, The fainting traveller winds his way; Bewildering meteors glare around, And tempt his wandering feet astray;
2 Till mild Religion from above Descends, a sweet, engaging form, The messenger of heavenly love, The bow of promise in a storm!
3 Ambition, pride, revenge depart, And folly flies her chastening rod; She makes the humble, contrite heart A temple of the living God.
4 Beyond the narrow vale of time, Where bright, celestial ages roll, To scenes eternal, scenes sublime, She points the way, and leads the soul.
5 At her approach the grave appears The gate of Paradise restored;
Her voice the watching cherub hears, And drops his double, flaming sword.
6 Baptized with her renewing fire, May we the crown of glory gain; Rise when the host of heaven expire, And reign with God, for ever reign.
"Affliction cometh not forth of the dust."
1 AFFLICTION'S faded form draws nigh, With wrinkled brow and downcast eye, With sackcloth on her bosom spread, And ashes scattered o'er her head.
2 But deem her not a child of earth: From heaven she draws her sacred birth; Beside the throne of God she stands, To execute his dread commands.
3 Oft as in pleasure's paths we stray, Perplexed in sin's deceitful way, With storms she thunders o'er our heads, And sudden ruin round us spreads.
4 The messenger of grace, she flies To train us for our home, the skies; And, onward as we move, the way Becomes more smooth, more bright the day.
5 Her weeds to robes of glory turn, Her looks with kindling radiance burn; Her lips these soothing words reveal, — "God smites to bless, he wounds to heal!"
The weeping Seed-time and joyful Harvest. Psalm 126.
1 THE darkened sky, how thick it lowers! Troubled with storms, and big with showers; No cheerful gleam of light appears, But Nature pours forth all her tears.
2 Yet let the sons of grace revive; God bids the soul that seeks him live, And from the gloomiest shade of night Calls forth a morning of delight.
The seeds of ecstasy unknown Are in these watered furrows sown; See the green blades, how thick they rise, And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!
4 In secret foldings they contain Unnumbered ears of golden grain; And heaven shall pour its beams around, Till the ripe harvest load the ground.
5 Then shall the trembling mourner come, And bind his sheaves, and bear them home: The voice long broke with sighs shall sing, Till heaven with hallelujahs ring.
Blessed are they that mourn.
1 DEEM not that they are blest alone Whose days a peaceful tenor keep; The God who loves our race has shown A blessing for the eyes that weep.
« ForrigeFortsett » |