5 Silent we own Jehovah's name,
We kiss the scourging hand;
And yield our comforts and our life
To thy supreme command.

1

HYMN 130. C. M.

Funeral Hymn.-A Saint prepared to die.

DEATH may dissolve my body now,

And bear my spirit home;

Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?

2 With heav'nly weapons I have fought
The battles of the Lord;

Finish'd my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.

3 God hath laid up in heav'n for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge, at that great day,"
Shall place it on my head.

4 Nor hath the King of grace decreed
This prize for me alone;

But all that love and long to see
Th' appearance of his Son.

5 Jesus, the Lord, shall guard me safe
From ev'ry ill design;
And to his heav'nly kingdom take
This feeble soul of mine.

6 God is my everlasting aid,
And hell shall rage in vain;
To him be highest glory paid,
And endless praise. Amen.

1

HYMN 131. C. M.

Funeral Hymn.—A voice from the tombs.

Η

ARK! from the tombs a doleful sound;

H My ears attend the cry:

"Ye living men, come view the ground, "Where you must shortly lie.

2 "Princes, this clay must be your bed, "In spite of all your tow'rs;

"The tall, the wise, the rev'rend head "Must lie as low as ours."

3 Great God! is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?

Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepare no more?

4 Grant us the pow'r of quick'ning grace,
To fit our souls to fly;

Then, when we drop this dying flesh,
We'll rise above the sky.

HE

HYMN 132. C. M.

Funeral Consolations.

TEAR what the voice from heav'n deTo those in Christ who die! [clares "Releas'd from all their earthly cares, "They reign with him on high." 2 Then, why lament departed friends, Or shake at death's alarms! Death's but the servant Jesus sends To call us to his arms.

3 If sin be pardon'd we're secure,
Death hath no sting beside:

The law gave sin its strength and pow'r;
But Christ, our ransom, died!

4 The graves of all his saints he bless'd, When in the grave he lay!

And rising thence, their hopes he rais'd
To everlasting day!

5 Then joyfully, while life we have,
To Christ, our life, we'll sing;
"Where is thy victory, O grave!
"And where, O death, thy sting!"

1

Τ

HYMN 133. 8s. L. M.

The Life of Faith.

HE moment a sinner believes,
And trusts in his crucified Lord,
His pardon at once he receives,
Redemption in full thro' his blood.
2 The Christian is dead, yet he lives,
His life is with Christ, hid in God,
This life now, from Christ he derives,
And he lives by faith in his Lord.

3 Tho' thousands and thousands of foes
Against him in malice unite,

Their rage he thro' Christ can oppose,
Led forth by the Spirit to fight.

4 The faith, that unites to the Lamb,
And brings such salvation as this,
Is more than mere fancy or name;
The work of God's Spirit it is.

5 It says to the mountains " depart,"
That stand betwixt God and the soul;
It binds up the broken in heart,

The wounded in conscience makes whole.

6 Christ lives by his Spirit in them,

Whose hearts are renewed by grace;

And they, by their faith, live in him,
A life of pure joy, love, and peace.

HYMN 134. C. M.

The Walk of Faith.

HYMN 135. L. M.

The Conflicts of Faith.

[ESUS, our soul's delightful choice, In thee believing, we rejoice; Yet still our joy is mix'd with grief, While faith contends with unbelief. 2 Thy promises our hearts revive, And keep our fainting hopes alive; But guilt and fears, and sorrows rise, And hide the promise from our eyes. 3 Do thou the languid spark inflame, That we may conquer in thy name; And let not sin and Satan boast, While saints lie mourning in the dust. 4 Unequal to the conflict, Lord, Too weak to wield the shield or sword, On thine almighty arm we fall;

Be thou our Jesus, and our all.

I

HYMN 136. L. M.

The Trials of Faith.

PRAY'D the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace;
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.

2 'Twas he, who taught me thus to pray,
And he, I trust, has answer'd prayer;
But answer came in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.
3 I hop'd that in some favour'd hour,
At once he'd grant me my request;
And by his love's constraining pow'r
Subdue my sins and give me rest.