4 When faith is firm, and conscience clear,
And words of peace the spirit cheer,
And visioned glories half appear,-
'T is joy, 't is triumph then to die!

5 When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
And films, slow-gathering, dim the sight,
And clouds obscure the mental light,-
'T is nature's precious boon to die.

513. C. M.

1 Yes! there's a better world on high:
Hope on, thou pious breast!

Faint not, thou traveller! in the sky
Thy weary feet shall rest.

2 Through death's lone vale of deepest shade
Thy feet must surely go;

Yet there, e'en there, walk undismayed; 'T is thy last scene of woe.

3 Jehovah with paternal hand

Shall guard the traveller through:

"Hail!" shalt thou cry, "hail, promised land! Sorrows of earth, adieu!"

4 Father! oh make our souls Thy care; Oh take us all to Thee:

Where Thou art known,-we ask not where,But there 't is Heaven to be.

1 Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit, rest thee now!
E'en while with us thy footstep trod,
His seal was on thy brow,

2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath!
Soul, to its place on high!

1

2

3

4

They that have seen thy look in death No more may fear to die.

515. S. M.

Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy.

The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear,

The mortal arrow pierced his frame,
He fell, but felt no fear.

Tranquil amidst alarms,

It found him on the field,

A veteran slumbering on his arms,
Beneath his red-cross shield.

At midnight came the cry,

"To meet thy God prepare!"

He woke, and caught his captain's eye;
Then strong in faith and prayer.—

5

His spirit, with a bound,

Left its encumbering clay;
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground
A darkened ruin lay.

6 Soldier of Christ, well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour's joy.

516. P. M.

1 Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb:

Thy Saviour has passed through its portal 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 die, for the Sinless has died!

3 Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking,

Perchance thy weak spirit in fear lingered long; But the mild rays of Paradise beamed 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 is thy dwelling, 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!

517. P. M.

1 Vital spark of heavenly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying;
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

2 Hark, they whisper! angels say,
"Sister spirit, come away!"
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

3 The world recedes!-it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes!-my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:

Lend, lend your wings! I mount, I fly:
O grave! where is thy victory?

O death! where is thy sting?

518. 10s M.

1 Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime, In full activity of zeal and power;

A Christian cannot die before his timeThe Lord's appointment is the servant's hour. 2 Go to the grave; at noon from labour cease; Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest-task is done; Come from the heart of battle, and in peace, Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won. 3 Go to the grave; though, like a fallen tree, At once with verdure, flowers, and fruitage crowned;

Thy form may perish, and thy honours be
Lost in the mouldering bosom of the ground.
4 Go to the grave, for there thy Saviour lay
In death's embraces, ere he rose on high;
And all the ransomed, by that narrow way,
Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.

5 Go to the grave;-no, take thy seat above;
Be thy pure spirit present with the Lord,
Where thou, for faith and hope, hast perfect love,
And open vision for the written word.