I HYMN CLXXXVIII. AND let this feeble body fail, And let it faint or die; My foul fhall quit the mournful vale, 2 In hope of that immortal crown, And gladly wander up and down, 30 what hath Jefus brought for me! Before my ravish'd eyes Rivers of life divine I fee, And trees of paradife : I fee a world of fpirits bright, Who taste the pleasures there! They all are rob'd in spotless white, And conqu'ring palms they bear. 4 O, what are all my fuff'rings here, If, Lord, thou count me meet With that enraptur'd hoft t' appear, And worship at thy feet! Give joy or grief, give eafe or pain, Take life or friends away; But let me find them all again 1 HYMN CLXXXIX. HAPPY Lo! the Saviour ftands above, 3 Struggle through thy latest paffion, 4 For the joy he fets before thee, I HEAD HYMN CXC. LEAD of the church triumphant, We joyfully adore thee, Till thou appear Thy members here Shall fing like thofe in glory. And cry aloud, And give to God The praife of our falvation. 2 While in affliction's furnace, And pafling through the fire, Thy love we praise, Which knows no days, And ever brings us nigher. We clap our hands exulting Which made us thine, Shall keep us thine for ever. 3 Thou doft conduct thy people Through torrents of temptation Nor will we fear, While thou art near, The fire of tribulation: Break thro' them all, And fing the fong of Mofes. 4 By faith we see the glory For that high prize Which thou haft fet before us : At God's right-hand, To take us up to heaven. HYMN CXCI. LORD, I adore thy gracious will, Thro' ev'ry inftrument of ill. Accept the complicated wrong HYMN CXCII. Jesu, the weary 'wand'rer's reft, ESU, Give me thy eafy yoke to bear ; Pow'rful the wounded foul to heal. 3 Be thou, O Rock of Ages, nigh! So fhall each murin'ring thought be gone; And grief, and fear, and care shall fly As clouds before the mid-day fun. ?? 4 Speak to my warring paffions, "Peace;" Say to my trembling heart," Be ftill;' Thy pow'r my ftrength and fortress is, For all things ferve thy fov'reign will, 5 O death! where is thy fting? where now Thy boafted victory, O grave? I Who fhall contend with God? or who W HYMN CXCIII. HY fhould I doubt his love at laft, 2 Will fave, till at my latest hour FUNERAL. HYMN CXCIV. AH! lovely appearance of death, What fight upon earth is fo fair? The corpfe when the fpirit is fled, Of all that could burden his mind; This wearifome body behind! Whofe relics with envy I fee, No longer a finner like me. 3 This earth is affected no more With fickness, or fhaken with pain: Is heav'd by affliction no more: It never fhall flutter again. |