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5 Oh, let us fly—to Jesus, fly,

Whose powerful arm can save; Then shall our hopes ascend on high,

And triumph o'er the grave. 6 Great God! thy sovereign grace impart,

With cleansing, healing power ; This only can prepare the heart

For death's surprising hour.

503. C. M.
Death or removal of a Pastor.

,

With hearts opprest with grief; Our pastor's gone—we 're left alone,

Where shall we find relief? 2 Thy word he faithfully proclaim'd,

Áis doctrine from it drew; Regardless whether prais'd or blamed,

So he thy will might do. 3 Nor did he merely preach alone,

Obedience mark'd his way? His holy life, as well as tongue,

Inclin’d to endless day.
4 We feel the loss of such a guide,

And now before thy throne,
We pray his loss may be supplied.

Supplied by thee alone.
5 Give us a pastor in his room,

To wipe our falling tears ;
And guide, and guard us safely on,

From all our rising fears.

504. L. M. Daniel's Selection.

The death of a Minister
HIS

IS death we mour, who lately stood

A herald of the mighty God;
Proclaim'd the Saviour of our race,
And bore the message of his grace.

2 Laborious in his Master's cause ;

His view, nor lucre nor applause ;
To spend and to be spent resign'd,

If souls through Christ salvation find. 3 With pointed language, flaming zeal,

He to the conscience did appeal ;
With terror sought the soul to move,

Or draw it with the cords of love. 4 But all his labours now are o'er,

And we shall hear his voice no more:
His dust lies silent in the tomb;

He's gone to heaven, his final home. 5 Jesus! though earthly shepherds die,

Do thou thy churches still supply
With gifts, instruction to impart-
Pastors according to thy heart.

505. C. M. J. Saunders. The flock approaching the Shepherd's tomb. WATH boly, awe, and solemn dread, Your shepherd lies beneath the shade

Of death's tremendous gloom! 2 How gentle was the stroke divine,

Which bow'd his head in death! How peaceful did his soul resign

His friends, his life, his breath! 3 E'en death to him is endless gain;

Though we are left to mourn: Shepherd divine! thy flock sustain,

Nor leave thy fold forlorn. 4 Display thy pardoning, healing grace ; Assuage our rising

grief; Reveel thy smiling, cheering face,

And grant us sweet relief. 5 Give us to kiss the painful rod,

Nor at thy will repine,• Be still, and know that thou art God,'

To all thy will resign.

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6 Furnish thy church from shore to shore,

With gospel truth and grace;
And, while we thus our loss deplore,

E'en here thy flock increase.

506. L. M. Altered.
Death discloses the unknown world.
B В

Y faint and glimmering light we view

The unknown world we're hastening 10; God has lock'd up the mystic page,

And curtain'd darkness round the siage. 2 We talk of heaven, we talk of hell;

But what can men or angels tell?
Whether we will or not, we must

Take the succeeding world on trust. 3 Death soon to our astonish'd sight,

Eternal things will bring to light;
The curtain, none but he can raise,

Nor he, till God our sovereign please. 4 If we in Christ the Lord believe,

We shall eternal joys receive;
But if we spurn his sacred name,
We sink, we burn in quenchless flame.

507. S. M. Vatts.

The resurrection of the body.
AND must this body die?

This mortal frame decay ?
And must these active limbs of mine

Lie mouldering in the clay?
Corruption, earth, and worms,

Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes

To put it on afresh.
3 God my Redzemer lives,

And often from the skies,
Looks down, and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.

4 Array'd in glorious grace,

Shall these vile bodies shine, And every shape, and every face,

Look heavenly and divine. 5 These lively hopes we owe

To Jesus' dying love;
We would adors his grace below,

And sing his power above. 6

Dear Lord, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise

With our immortal tongues.

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JUDGMENT.

508. C. M. Watts.
The Certainly and Awfulness of Judgment.
T The appointed hour makes haste

,
When I must stand before my Judge,

And pass the solemn test. 2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,

Thou Sovereign of my heart, llow could I bear to hear thy voice

Pronounce the sound-depart ! 3 The thunder of that dismal word

Would so distress mine ear,
'Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord,

With most tormenting fear.
4 Jesus, I throw my arms around,

And hang upon thy breast;
Without a gracious smile from thee,

My spirit cannot rest.
5 O, tell me that my worthless name

Is graven on thy hands!
Show me some promise in thy book,

Where my salvation stands.

509. L. M. Relief Hymns. NHE Lord shall come-a glorious form,

of storm!

On cherub wings, and wings of wind,

Appointed Judge of all mankind. 2 Can this be he who wont to stray

As pilgrim on the world's highway,
Opprest by power, and mock'd by pride,

The Nazarene-the crucified ?
3 While sinners in despair shall call,

Rocks, hide us—mountains, on es fall!
The saints, ascending from the tomb,
Shall joyful sing—the Lord is come!

510. C. M. Watts.
The last judgment ; or, the saints rewarded.
T
THRON’D on a cloud our God shall come,

Bright flames prepare his way,
Thunder

and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day.
2 Heaven from above his call shall hear,

Attending angels come,
And earth and hell shall know and fear,

His justice, and their doom.
3 .But gather all my saints,' he cries,

That made their peace with God, • By the Redeemer's sacrifice,

And seal'd it with his blood.
4 Their faith and works, brought forth to light,

Shall make the world confess
My sentence of reward is right,
And heaven adore the grace.'

511. L. M. Watts.

Happy resurrection.
L
ET worms devour my wasting flesh,

And crumble alt hones to dust,
My God shall raise my frame afresh,
Ai the revival of the just.

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