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3 Here faith reveals to mortal eyes

A brighter world beyond the skies ;
Here shines the light which guides our way
From earth to realms of endless day.

4 O grant us grace, Almighty Lord,

To see Thy light, to know Thy word ;
Its truths with meekness to receive,
And by its holy precepts live. Amen.

B. Beddome.

Death.

I

357.
ASLEEP in Jesus ! blessèd sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep,
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes !

2 Asleep in Jesus ! O how sweet

To be for such a slumber meet,
With holy confidence to sing
That death has lost his venomed sting!

3 Asleep in Jesus ! peaceful rest,

Whose waking is supremely blest!
No fear, no woe, shall dim the hour
That manifests the Saviour's power.

4 Asleep in Jesus ! O for me

May such a blissful refuge be!
Securely shall my ashes lie,
Waiting the summons from on high. Amen.

Y

358.

1 EARTH to earth, and dust to dust,

Lord, we own the sentence just;
Head and tongue, and hand and heart,
All in guilt have borne their part;
Righteous is the common doom,
All must moulder in the tomb.

2

Like the seed in spring-time sown,
Like the leaves in autumn strown,
Low these goodly frames must lie,
All our pomp and glory die ;
Soon the Spoiler seeks his prey,
Soon he bears us all away.

3 Yet the seed, upraised again,

Clothes with green the smiling plain ;
Onward as the seasons move,
Leaves and blossoms deck the grove;
And shall we forgotten lie,
Lost for ever, when we die ?

4 Lord, from nature's gloomy night

Turn we to the Gospel's light;
Thou didst triumph o'er the grave,
Thou wilt all Thy people save;
Ransomed by Thy Blood, the just
Rise immortal from the dust. Amen.

7. H. Gurney.

2

359.

Dies ira! dies illa.
1 DAY of wrath! O day of mourning!

See fulfilled the prophet's warning !
Heaven and earth to ashes burning !
O what fear the sinner rendeth,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,

On whose sentence all dependeth !
3 Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth,

Through earth's sepulchres it ringeth,

All before the Throne it bringeth. 4 Death is struck, and nature quaking,

All creation is awaking,

To its Judge an answer making. 5 Lo, the Book, exactly worded,

Wherein all hath been recorded !

Thence shall judgment be awarded. 6 When the Judge His seat attaineth,

And each hidden deed arraigneth,

Nothing unavenged remaineth. 7 What shall I, frail man, be pleading,

Who for me be interceding,

When the just are mercy needing ? 8 King of Majesty tremendous,

Who dost free Salvation send us,

Fount of pity, then befriend us ! 9 Think, kind Jesu, my salvation

Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation,
Leave me not to reprobation.

10 Faint and weary Thou hast sought me,

On the cross of suffering bought me ;

Shall such grace be vainly brought me ? Il Righteous Judge! for sin's pollution

Grant Thy gift of absolution,

Ere that day of retribution. 12 Guilty, now I pour my moaning,

All my shame with anguish owning;

Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning. 13 Thou the sinful woman savedst;

Thou the dying thief forgavest;

And to me a hope vouchsafest. 14 Worthless are my prayers and sighing,

Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,

Rescue me from fires undying. 15 With Thy favoured sheep Oh ! place me,

Nor among the goats abase me;

But to Thy right hand upraise me. 16 While the wicked are confounded,

Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,

Call me, with Thy saints surrounded. 17 Low I kneel, with heart-submission ;

See, like ashes, my contrition;

Help me in my last condition.
18 Ah, that day of tears and mourning!

From the dust of earth returning,
Man for judgment must prepare him,
Spare ! O God in mercy spare him !
Lord, all-pitying, Jesu blest,
Grant us Thine eternal rest. Amen.

Thomas of Celano.

I

2

360.
THOU Judge of quick and dead,

Before whose bar severe,
With holy joy or guilty dread,

We all shall soon appear ;
Our cautioned souls prepare

For that tremendous day,
And fill us now with watchful care,

And stir us up to pray.
To pray, and wait the hour,

The awful hour unknown,
When, robed in majesty and power,

Thou shalt from heaven come down,
The immortal Son of Man,

To judge the human race,
With all Thy Father's dazzling train,

With all Thy glorious grace.
To damp our earthly joys,

To increase our duteous fears,
For ever let the Archangel's voice

Be sounding in our ears ;
The solemn midnight cry,
“ Ye dead, the Judge is come!
Arise, and meet Him in the sky,
And meet your instant doom !”
Oh! may we thus be found,

Obedient to His word,
Attentive to the trumpet's sound,

And looking for our Lord:
Oh! may we thus insure

Our lot among the blest,
And watch a moment, to secure
An everlasting rest! Amen.

C. Wesley.

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