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2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
3 O there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
But joy shall come with early light.
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Will give him to thy arms again.
And numbered every secret tear;
FROM THE SPANISH OP 8 & 4s. M.
Don JORGE MANRIQUE
That lure us here!
2 Where is the strength that spurned decay,
The heart's blithe tone ?
When age comes on.
Our birth is but a starting-place;
And death the goal :
Is found of all.
4 O let the soul its slumbers break,
To see how soon
Come stealing on.
i 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.
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
On manhood's middle day.
o 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,
And warns thee of her dead. 7 Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply
To truths divinely given;
Remind thee of thy heaven.
C. M. 637.
DODDRIDGE. Near Approach of Salvation. i 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,
To our admiring eyes.
Ye mortal powers, decay;
Ye bring eternal day.
Tracing the Steps of the Pious Dead. 1 How swift the torrent rolls,
That bears us to the sea ! The tide that bears our thoughtless souls
To vast eternity!
Our fathers, where are they,
With all they call their own? Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,
And wealth and honor, gone.
God of our fathers! hear;
Thou everlasting Friend!
Our souls to thee commend.
Of all the pious dead
May we the footsteps trace,
We dwell before thy face.
Blessedness of the Righteous in Death.
When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How gently heaves the expiring breast! 2 So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
3 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!”
i Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims
For all the pious dead:
And soft their sleeping bed.
How kind their slumbers are!
And freed from every snare.
They 're present with the Lord; The labors of their mortal life
End in a large reward.