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Again the Day-star gilds the gloom,
Again the bow'rs of Eden bloom!
80 Zion! lift thy raptur'd eye,
The long-expected hour is nigh:
The joys of nature rise again,
The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

T. CAMPBELL.

UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE.

1 What is life! 'tis but a vapour;
Soon it vanishes away;
Life is like 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.
Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

3 Joyful crowds, his throne surrounding, Sing with rapture of his love:

Thro' the heav'ns his praises sounding,
Filling all the courts above.
Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

4 Go and share his people's glory;
'Midst the ransom'd crowd appear;

Thine a joyful, wondrous story,
One that angels love to hear.
Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

KELLY.

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"s BLESSED ARE THE DEAD THAT DIE IN THE

LORD.

1 Hark! a voice, it cries from heav'n,
Happy in the Lord who die;
Happy they to whom 'tis given,
From a world of grief to fly!
They indeed are truly blest;
From their labours then they rest.
2 All their toils and conflicts over,
Lo! they dwell with Christ above;
O! what glories they discover
In the Saviour whom they love!
Now they see him face to face,
Him who sav'd them by his grace.

3 'Tis enough, enough for ever,
"Tis his people's bright reward,
They are blest indeed who never
Shall be absent from their Lord!
O! that we may die like those
Who in Jesus then repose!

KELLY.

THE GRACE OF GOD.

1 Mark where the wave at eventide,
In seeming slumber lies;

Mark how its glassy face reflects
The richly-painted skies.

2 The brightest hues of heaven there
In faint resemblance shine,

Though oft the passing ripple breaks
The beautiful design.

3 So, when redeeming love hath sooth'd
Man's stormy soul to rest;
No more by raging passion toss'd,
By anxious sorrow press'd;

4 Cold and unstable in himself
As yonder changeful waves,
His bosom still reflects to heaven,
The image it receives.

5 He feels a love, by love inspir'd,
Returning whence it came,
That can surrender all for One
Who left so much for him.

6 And there is joy-the joy of One,
Who, from a state of bliss,

Looks back upon the awful depth
Of wrath that once was his:

7 Peace such as earth has none to give,
The peace of sin forgiv'n;
Of hopes exalted from the world,
And bliss secured from heav'n:

8 Faith that can rest upon her God,
However dark his ways;

While reason questions of his word,
Believes it-and obeys:

9 Patience, forbearance, gentleness,
The offspring all of heav'n,
Such as befit a contrite soul,
Mindful of sins forgiv❜n:

10 These, and whatever else may seem
Most beautiful, most fair,
Serenely beaming on the soul,
Will trace their image there.

MISS C. FRY.

THE CROSS.

1 We sing the praise of Him who died,
Of him who died upon the cross;
The sinner's hope let men deride,
For this we count the world but loss.
2 Inscrib'd upon the cross we see,
In shining letters, "GOD IS LOVE!"
He bears our sins upon the tree,
He brings us mercy from above.
3 The Cross! it takes our guilt away,
It holds the fainting spirit up;
It cheers with hope the gloomy day,
And sweetens every bitter cup.
4 It makes the coward spirit brave,
And nerves the feeble arm for fight;
It takes its terror from the grave,
And gilds the bed of death with light.

5 The balm of life, the cure of wo,
The measure and the pledge of love;
"Tis all that sinners want below,
'Tis all that angels know above.

KELLY

DEATH OF A CHRISTIAN.

1 How sweetly parts the Christian sun, Just like the summer monarch set, 'Midst cloudless skies his journey done, To rise in brighter regions yet.

20 where the Christian ends his days,
Lingers a lovely line of rays,

That speaks his calm departure blest,
And promises to those who gaze,
The same beatitude of rest.

EDMESTON.

COMFORT IN PROSPECT OF DEATH.

1 Let reason vainly boast her pow'r
To teach her children how to die,
The sinner, in a dying hour,
Needs more than reason can supply:
A view of Christ, the sinner's Friend,
Alone can cheer him in the end.

2 When nature sinks beneath disease,
And every earthly hope is fled,
What then can give the sinner ease,

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