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7 Then anxious to be longer spared,

Man mourns his fleeting breath ;
All evils then seem light, compared

With the approach of death. 8 'Tis JUDGMENT shakes him; there's the fear,

That prompts his wish to stay :
He has incurr'd a long arrear,

And must despair to pay.
9 Pay !-- Follow Christ, and all is paid :

His death your peace ensures :
Think on the grave where He was laid,
And calm descend to yours.

HYMN 163.
(1. M. ST. ANDREW's.)

I will set the Lord always before me. 1 Saviour! when night involves the skies,

My soul adoring turns to Thee;
Thee, self-abased in mortal guise,

And wrapt in shades of death for me. 2 On Thee my bursting raptures dwell,

When crimson gleams the East adorn;
Thee, Victor of the grave and hell,

Thee, Source of life's eternal morn.
3 When noon her throne in light arrays,

To Thee my soul triumphant springs;
Thee, throned in glory's endless blaze,

Thee, Lord of lords, and King of kings ! 4 O'er earth when shades of evening steal,

To death and Thee my thoughts I give;
To death, whose power I soon must feel;
To Thee, with whom I trust to live.

HYMN 164.
(P. M. GREEN.)

Old things pass away. 1 LORD! when to serious thought inclined My former days I call to mind,

And past offences trace;
With shame each crime I number o'er,
And humbled in the dust adore,

The power of heavenly grace.
2 These lips, with blasphemies defiled,
These feet, to sinful paths beguiled,

In holier league agree : Strange, that such lips should singthy praise, That feet, so lost in Satan's

ways, Should find the path to Thee. 3 These eyes, that once abused their light, Now lift to Thee their watery sight,

And weep a silent flood : These hands are raised in ceaseless prayer; Oh! cleanse them from the stains they bear,

In thy redeeming blood.
4 These ears, so pleased to entertain
The midnight oath, the filthy strain,

Around the festive board,
Now deaf to such intemperate noise,
Shun the mad throng, detest their joys,

And love to hear thy word.
5 Oh! be Thou served in every part,
And write thy law upon my heart,
And make thy pleasure mine:

The former man let grace control,
And a new spirit, body, soul,

Be form’d, for ever thine!

Hymn 165.

(c. M. OLNEY.)
The Christian's desire to depart and be with Christ.
1 Oh ! most delightful hour by man

Experienced here below;
The hour that terminates his span,

His folly, and his woe? 2 Worlds should not bribe me back to tread

Again life's dreary waste;
To see my days again o'erspread

With all the gloomy past.
3 My home is henceforth in the skies :

Earth, seas, and sun, adieu ?
All heaven unfolded to my eyes,

I have no sight for you.
4 May I till death be firm possess'd

Of faith's supporting rod;
Then breathe my soul into her rest,
The bosom of her God !

HYMN 166.
(c. M. BOUSQUET.).

Anticipation of the judgement-day. 1 IF rising from the bed of death,

O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, I see my Maker face to face,

Oh ! how shall I appear? 2 If yet, while pardon may be found,

And mercy may be sought,

My heart with inward horror shrinks,

And trembles at the thought ;3 When Thou, O Lord! shalt stand disclosed,

In majesty severe,
And sit in judgment on my soul,

Oh ! how shall I appear ?
4 But Thou hast told the troubled soul,

That doth her sins lament,
Of Him who suffer'd unto death,

Her sufferings to prevent. 5 Then why, my soul, should'st thou despair,

Full pardon to procure,
Since Christ, the Lord of glory, died,

To make that pardon sure?

HYMN 167.
(P. M. TRIUMPH.)

The dying Christian to his soul. 1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame,

Quit, oh ! quit this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
Oh! the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,

And let me languish into life.
2 Hark! they whisper, angels say,
6 Sister spirit, come away

!"
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ?

3 The world recedes; it disappears;

Heaven opens to my eyes : my ears
With sounds seraphic ring;
Lend, lend your wing. I mount, I fly;
O grave! where is thy victory?
o death! where is thy sting?

HYMN 168.
(C. M. BOSQUET.)

Human life compared to a voyage. 1 Life's voyage is of awful length,

Through dangers little known:
A stranger to superior strength,

Man vainly trusts his own.
2 But oars alone can ne'er prevail

To reach the distant coast;
The breath of heaven must swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.
3 With anchor safe, and streamers gay,

And sails expanded wide,
Some seem with speed to bear away,

And safe the storm outride.
4 While my frail bark, by tempests toss'd,

Half-wreck'd in open sea,
Winds adverse still, and compass lost;

Scarce holds her dreary way.it 5 Thou, Lord ! whom winds and waves obey,

The Pilot's part perform ;
The vessel steer from day to day,

And guide her through the storm. 6 Till, landed safe on Canaan's shore,

Her destined port she gain :

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