3 The victory now is obtain❜d;

She's gone her dear Saviour to see; Her wishes she fully has gain'd

She's now where she longed to be. Then let us forbear to complain,

That she has now gone from our sight; We soon shall behold her again, With new and redoubled delight.

HYMN 571.

C. M.

NEWTON.

1 N vain my fancy strives to paint
The moment after death;
The glories that surround a saint,
When yielding up his breath.
2 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks,
We scarce can say, "He's gone!"
Before the willing spirit takes

Its mansions near the throne.

3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace the spirit's flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides the world of light.

4 Thus much (and this is all) we know,
Saints are completely blest;

Have done with sin, and care, and wo,
And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise his name,
His face they always view,

Then let us foll'wers be of them,
That we may praise him too.

HYMN 572.

S. M.

NEWTON.

1

Balaam's wish. Num. xxiii. 10.

[OW blest the righteous are,

H When they resign their breath!

No wonder Balaam wish'd to share,
In such a happy death.

2"Oh! let me die," said he,
“The death the righteous do;
When life is ended, let me be

Found with the faithful few.".

3 The force of truth, how great,
When enemies confess!
None but the righteous whom they hate,
A solid hope possess.

4 But Balaam's wish was vain-
His heart was insincere;
thirsted for unrighteous gain,
And sought a portion here.

5 May we, O Lord most high,
Warning from hence receive;

If like the righteous we would die,
To choose the life they live.

HYMN 573. C. M.

Death of a young person.

STEELE.

1W By death's resistless hand,

HEN blooming youth is snatch'd away

Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
Oh, may this truth, imprest

With awful pow'r-"I too must die"-
Sink deep in ev'ry breast.

3 The voice of this alarming scene
May ev'ry heart obey;

Nor be the heav'nly warning vain,
Which calls to watch, and pray.

4 Oh, let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose pow'rful arm can save; Then shall our hopes ascend on high, And triumph o'er the grave.

HYMN 574. C. M.

On the death of a Child.

STEELE.

1Toch mournful thought employs :

HE once lov'd form, now cold and dead,

And nature weeps her comforts fled,
And wither'd all her joys.

2 But wait the interposing gloom,
And lo! stern winter flies:
And, drest in beauty's fairest bloom,
The flow'ry tribes arise.

3 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time, When what we now deplore,

Shall rise in full, immortal prime,
And bloom to fade no more.

4 Then cease, fond nature, cease thy tears; Religion points on high;

There everlasting spring appears,
And joys which cannot die.

HYMN 575.

L. M.

NEWTON.

10

FT as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, "Am I
Prepar'd, should I be call'd to die?

2"Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone,
And plung'd into a world unknown.
3" Then leaving all I lov❜d below,
To God's tribunal I must go;
Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state."

LORD JESUS! help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Apply thy blood, thy Spirit give-
Subdue my sins and let me live.

5 Then when the solemn bell I hear,
If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear;
Nor would the thought distressing be,
Perhaps it next may toll for me.

TIME AND ETERNITY.

HYMN 576.

C. M.

HOSKINS.

THE

1 Cor. vii. 29.

1 THE time is short! the season near, When death will us remove

To leave our friends, however dear,
And all we fondly love.

2 The time is short! sinners, beware,
Nor trifle time away;

The word of great salvation hear,
While it is call'd to-day.

3 The time is short! ye rebels, now
To Christ the Lord submit ;
To mercy's golden sceptre bow,
And fall at Jesus' feet.

4 The time is short! ye saints rejoice-
The Lord will quickly come:

Soon shall you hear the Bridegroom's voice,

To call you to your home.

5 The time is short! it swiftly fliesThe hour is just at hand,

When we shall mount above the skies, And reach the wish'd for land,