2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.

3 O there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.

4 And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier,
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere,
Will give him to thy arms again.

5 For God hath marked each anguished day,
And numbered every secret tear;
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.

8 & 4s. M.



Vanity of the World.

1 ALAS! how poor and little worth
Are all those glittering toys of earth
That lure us here!

Dreams of a sleep that death must break:
Alas! before it bids us wake,
They disappear.

2 Where is the strength that spurned decay, The step that rolled so light and gay, The heart's blithe tone?

The strength is gone, the step is slow,
And joy grows weariness and woe
When age comes on.

3 Our birth is but a starting-place;
Life is the running of the race,
And death the goal:

There all those glittering toys are brought;
That path alone, of all unsought,
Is found of all.

4 O let the soul its slumbers break,
Arouse its senses, and awake
To see how soon

Life, like its glories, glides away,
And the stern footsteps of decay
Come stealing on.

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Solemn Admonitions.

1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven!

2 Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay;
And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.

3 Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower;
Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour.

4 Our eyes have seen the rosy light
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
And death descend in sudden night
On manhood's middle day.

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5 Our eyes have seen the steps of age
Halt feebly towards the tomb;
And yet shall earth our hearts engage,
And dreams of days to come?

6 Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead.

7 Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply
To truths divinely given;
The boundless fields of light on high
Remind thee of thy heaven.

C. M.


Near Approach of Salvation.

1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes, And raise your voices high;

Awake, and praise that sovereign love, That shows salvation nigh.


2 On all the wings of time it flies;
Each moment brings it near;
Then welcome each declining day!
Welcome each closing year!

3 Not many years their round shall run, Not many mornings rise,

Ere all its glories stand revealed
To our admiring eyes.

4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course; Ye mortal powers, decay;

Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day.


S. M.


Tracing the Steps of the Pious Dead.

How swift the torrent rolls,
That bears us to the sea!

The tide that bears our thoughtless souls
To vast eternity!

2 Our fathers, where are they,
With all they call their own?
Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,
And wealth and honor, gone.


3 God of our fathers! hear;
Thou everlasting Friend!
While we, as on life's utmost verge,
Our souls to thee commend.

Of all the pious dead
May we the footsteps trace,
Till with them, in the land of light,
We dwell before thy face.




Blessedness of the Righteous in Death.

1 How blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves the expiring breast!


So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys; And naught disturbs that peace profound, Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears, Where lights and shades alternate dwell; How bright the unchanging morn appears! Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!

5 Life's duty done, as sinks the clay, Light from its load the spirit flies, While heaven and earth combine to say, "How blest the righteous when he dies!"

C. M.



"Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord."

1 HEAR What the voice from heaven proclaims
For all the pious dead:-
Sweet is the savor of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

2 They sleep in Jesus, and are blessed;
How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.

3 Far from this world of toil and strife, They 're present with the Lord; The labors of their mortal life

End in a large reward.


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