1077 8s & 7s. Blessed are the dead, etc. Rev. 14:13.
Happy soul! thy days are ended, All thy mourning days below; Go, by angel guards attended, To the sight of Jesus go! Waiting to receive thy spirit, Lo! the Saviour stands above; Shows the purchase of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love.
2 Struggling through thy latest passion To thy dear Redeemer’s breast, To his uttermost salvation, To his everlasting rest; For the joy he sets before thee, Bear thy transitory pain; Die, to live a life of glory; Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.
1078 P. M. What is your life? It is even a vapor. James 4:14.
What is life? ’tis but a vapor, Soon it vanishes away: Life is but a dying taper— O, my soul, why wish to stay! Why not spread thy wings and fly Straight to yonder world of joy!
2 See that glory, how resplendent! Brighter far than fancy paints; There, in majesty transcendent, Jesus reigns the King of saints, Why not spread thy wings and fly Straight to yonder world of joy!
3 Joyful crowds his throne surrounding, Sing with rapture of his love; Through the heavens his praise resounding, Filling all the courts above. Why not spread thy wings and fly Straight to yonder world of joy!
4 Go, and share his people’s glory, ’Midst the ransomed crowd appear; Thine a joyful, wondrous story, One that angels love to hear. Why not spread thy wings and fly Straight to yonder world of joy!
1079 8s, 7s & 4s. Death of an aged pilgrim.
Tossed no more on life’s rough billow, All the storms of sorrow fled, Death hath found a quiet pillow For the agéd Christian’s head, Peaceful slumbers Guarding now his lowly bed.
2 O, may we be reunited To the spirits of the just, Leaving all that sin has blighted With corruption, in the dust; Hear us, Jesus, Thou our Lord, our Life, our Trust.
1080 7s & 4s. Prayer for support in death.
When the vale of death appears, Faint and cold this mortal clay, Blest Redeemer, soothe my fears, Light me through the gloomy way; Break the shadows, Usher in eternal day.
2 Upward from this dying state Bid my waiting soul aspire; Open thou the crystal gate; To thy praise attune my lyre: Then, triumphant, I will join the immortal choir.
1081 7s & 6s. Time is winging us away.
Time is winging us away To our eternal home; Life is but a winter’s day— A journey to the tomb; Youth and vigor soon will flee; Blooming beauty lose its charms; All that’s mortal soon shall be Inclosed in death’s cold arms.
2 Time is winging us away To our eternal home; Life is but a winter’s day— A journey to the tomb! But the Christian shall enjoy Health and beauty soon above, Far beyond the world’s alloy, Secure in Jesus’ love.
1082 10s. His eye was not dim, etc. Deut. 34:7.
Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime, In full activity of zeal and power; A Christian can not die before his time; The Lord’s appointment is the servant’s hour.
2 Go to the grave: at noon from labor cease; Rest on thy sheaves; the harvest-task is done; Come from the heat of battle, and in peace, Soldier, go home; with thee the fight is won.
3 Go to the grave; for thee thy Saviour lay In death’s embrace, ere he arose on high; And all the ransomed, by that narrow way, Pass to eternal life beyond the sky.
4 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.
1083 8s & 9s. Death of a missionary.
Weep not for the saint that ascends To partake of the joys of the sky, Weep not for the seraph that bends With the worshiping chorus on high.
2 Weep not for the spirit now crowned With the garland to martyrdom given, O weep not for him; he has found His reward and his refuge in heaven.
3 But weep for their sorrows, who stand And lament o’er the dead by his grave— Who sigh when they muse on the land Of their home, far away o’er the wave.
4 And weep for the nations that dwell Where the light of the truth never shone, Where anthems of praise never swell, And the love of the Lamb is unknown.
5 Weep not for the saint that ascends To partake of the joys of the sky; Weep not for the seraph that bends With the worshiping chorus on high:
6 But weep for the mourners who stand By the grave of their brother, in tears, And weep for the people whose land Still must wait till the day-spring appears.
1084 8s & 3s. All is well.