AND am I born to die?
To lay this body down,
And must my trembling spirit fly
Into a world unknown;
A land of deepest shade,
Unpierced by human thought, The dreary regions of the dead, Where all things are forgot?
2 Soon as from earth I go,
What will become of me?
Eternal happiness or woe
Must then my portion be.
Waked by the trumpet's sound,
I from my grave shall rise;
And see the Judge with glory crowned,
And see the flaming skies.
3 How shall I leave my tomb?
With triumph or regret?
A fearful or a joyful doom,
A curse or blessing meet?
Will angel hands convey
Their brother to the bar,
Or devils drag my soul
To meet its sentence there?
4 Who can resolve the doubt
That tears my anxious breast?
Shall I be with the damned cast out,
Or numbered with the blest?
I must from God be driven,
Or with my Saviour dwell;
Must come at His command to heaven,
Or else depart to hell.
[Y days, my weeks, my months, my years,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres
Around the steady pole:
Time, like the tide, its motion keeps,
And I must launch through endless deeps,
Where endless ages
roll.
2 The grave is near the cradle seen;
How swift the moments pass between,
And whisper as they fly-
Unthinking man, remember this,
Thou, midst Thy sublunary bliss,
Must groan, and gasp, and die!
8 My soul, attend the solemn call,
Thine earthly tent must quickly fall,
And thou must take thy flight,
Beyond the vast ethereal blue,
To sing above as angels do,
Or sink in endless night.
AVIOUR, we wait the day,
The awful day unknown,
To quit our house, this tent of clay,
To lay our bodies down.
2 Come, and our souls prepare
For that tremendous day;
And fill us now with watchful care,
And stir us up to pray.
3 Oh! may we all insure
A lot among the blest;
And watch a moment to secure
An everlasting rest.
HEE we adore, Eternal Name,
THE humbly own to Thee,
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we!
2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;
And every beating pulse we tell,
Leaves but the number less.
3 The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, whate'er we be,
We're travelling to the grave.
4 Waken, O Lord! our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.
The House appointed for all Living.
swift the torrent rolls,
That hastens to the sea!
How strong the tide that bears our souls
On to eternity!
2 Our fathers, where are they?
With all they called their own,
Their joys, and griefs, and hopes, and cares,
And wealth, and honor gone!
3 There, where the fathers lie,
Must all the children dwell;
Nor other hermitage possess,
But such a gloomy cell.
4 God of our fathers, hear,
Thou everlasting Friend!
While we, on life's extremest verge,
Our souls to Thee commend.
ARTING soul! the floods await thee,
And the billows round thee roar;
Yet rejoice-the holy city
Stands on yon celestial shore.
2 There are crowns and thrones of glory,
There the living waters glide; There the just, in shining raiment Standing by Immanuel's side.
3 Linger not the stream is narrow,
Though its cold, dark waters rise;
He who passed the flood before thee,
Guides thy path to yonder skies.
HOW solummons that calls me away,
OW solemn the signal I hear!
In regions unknown to appear:
How shall I the summons obey?
What scenes in that world shall arise,
When life's latest sigh shall be fled,
And darkness has sealed up my eyes,
And deep in the dust I am laid?
2 No longer the world I can view,
The scenes which so long I have known;
My friends I must bid you adieu,
For here, I must travel alone:
Yet here my Redeemer has trod,
His hallowed footsteps I know;
I'll trust for defense to His rod,
And lean on His staff as I go.
HY do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to His arms.
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