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3 There is a world above,

Where parting is unknown;
A whole eternity of love,

Form'd for the good alone;
And faith beholds the dying here,

Translated to that happier sphere.
4 Thus star by star declines,

Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines

To pure and perfect day;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,-

They hide themselves in heaven's own light. 272. The Grave.

C.M.
1
HOW still and peaceful is the grave,

Where, life's vain tumults past,
Th' appointed house, by heav'ns decree,

Receives us all at last !
2 The wicked there from troubling cease,

Their passions rage no more;
And there the weary pilgrim rests

From all the toils he bore.
3 There servants, masters, small and great,

Partake the same repose ;
And there in peace the ashes mix

Of those who once were foes.
4 All, levelled by the hand of death,

Lie sleeping in the tomb,
Till God in judgment calls them forth,

To meet their final doom.

273.
Funeral Prayer.

P.M
LOWLY and solenın be

Thy children's cry to Thee,

Father divine !
A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death

Alike are Tbine!
2 O Father! in that hour,
When earth all succouring power

Shall disavow;
When spear, and shield, and crown,
In faintness are cast down;

Sustain us, Thou !
3 Thro' Him who bow'd to take
The death-cup for our sake,

The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay
Was not to pass away ;

Aid us, o God!
4 Tremblers beside the grave,
We call on Thee to save,

Father, Divine!
Hear, hear our suppliant breath,
Keep us in life and death,

Thine, only Thine.
274.
Hope in Sorrow.

P.M. THOU art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee,

[tomb; Though sorrow and darkness encompass the

1

The 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 hope, since the Sinless

has died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave, and its mansion

forsaking, Perhaps thy weak spirit in fear lingered

long : But the sunshine 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 'twere

wrong to deplore thee, For God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and

guide. He gave thee, He took thee, and He will

restore thee; And death has no sting, since the Saviour has died,

275.

The Heavenly Canaan. C.M. 1 THERE is a land of pure delight

Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides,

And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides

This heavenly land from ours. 3 0, could we make our doubts remove,

Those gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love,

With unbeclouded eyes !
4 Could we but climb where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, not death's cold flood,

Should fright us from the shore.
276.
Our Holy Land.

C.M. 1 THE happy fields, the heavenly host,

The
Do make us gladsome, Lord, but most

The Holy Land we love.
2 0 bright those golden gates must shine

That let no evil in!
That boundless region how divine,

That hath no room for sin!
3 Sweet Holy Land! sweet with the throng

Of souls divinely pure;

Where, holy happy ones among,

Thy pilgrims smile secure ! 4 No more to weep o'er lustre lent,

O'er grace out-pour'd in vain; No more in anguish to repent,

And then offend again : 5 But gloriously to spend that grace

They boundlessly receive; Nor once Thine image to deface,

Nor oncé Thy Spirit grieve.
6 Here, Lord, with sorrow and with sin

Still wars Thy pilgrim band;
Yet blest the warfare that shall win
Thy Heaven, our Holy Land !

Jerusalem above-the Mother 277.

of us all."
0 MOTHER dear, Jerusalem ;

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end ;

Thy joys when shall I see?
2 0 happy harbour of God's saints !

O sweet and pleasant soil !
In thee no sorrows can be found;

No grief, no care, no toil.
3 No dimly cloud o'ershadows thee,

No gloom, nor darksome night,
But every, soul shines as the sun,

For God himself gives light.

C.M

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