Time speeds away-away-away:
No eagle through the skies of day,
No wind along the hills can flee
So swiftly or so smooth as he.
Like fiery steed-from stage to stage
He bears us on-from youth to age;
Then plunge us in the fearful sea
Of fathomless Eternity.
Knox's Songs of Israel.
LIFE COMPARED TO THE SUN DIAL.
THAT solar shadow, as it measures life,
It life resembles too: life speeds away
From point to point, tho' seeming to stand still
The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth:
Too subtle is the movement to be seen,
Yet soon man's hour is up, and we are gone.
Warnings point out our danger, gnomons, time:
As these are useless when the sun is set;
So those, but when more glorious reason shines.
Reason should judge in all; in reason's eye,
That sedentary shadow travels hard:
But all mankind mistake their time of day;
Even age itself: fresh hopes are hourly sown
In furrowed brows. So gentle life's descent,
We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain :
We take fair days in winter, for the spring:
We turn our blessings into bane; since oft
Man must compute that age he cannot feel:
He scarce believes he's older for his years.
Thus, at life's latest eve, we keep in store
One disappointment sure, to crown the rest;
The disappointment of a promised hour.
WHEN frowning death appears,
And points his fatal dart,
What dark foreboding fears
Distract the sinner's heart!
The dreadful blow
No arm can stay,
But torn away
He sinks to wo.
Now every hope denied,
Bereft of every good,
He must the wrath abide
Of an avenging God:
No mercy there
Will greet his ear,
Nor wipe the tear
Of black despair.
Sinners, awake, attend,
And flee the wrath to come;
Make Christ, the Judge, your friend,
And heaven shall be your home.
His mercy nigh,
Now points the path
That leads from death
UNVEIL thy bosom, faithful tomb,
Take this new treasure to thy trust;
And give these sacred relics room,
To seek a slumber in the dust.
Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear
Invade thy bounds. No mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
While angels watch the soft repose.
So Jesus slept ;-God's dying Son
Pass'd thro' the grave, and blest the bed;
Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
Break from his throne illustrious morn;
Attend, O earth! his sov'reign word;
Restore thy trust-a glorious form-
Call'd to ascend and meet the Lord.
WHEN blooming youth is snatch'd away
By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.
While pity prompts the rising sigh,
Oh, may this truth, imprest
With awful pow'r-"I too must die"-
Sink deep n ev'ry breast.
The voice of this alarming scene
May ev'ry heart obey;
Nor be the heav'nly warning vain,
Which calls to watch, and pray.
Oh, let us fly, to Jesus fly,
Whose pow'rful arm can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.
SICKNESS AND DEATH.
My soul, the minutes haste away,
Apace comes on the final day,
When in the icy arms of death,
I must give up my vital breath.
When all the springs of life are low,
The spirits faint, the pulses slow;
The eyes grow dim, and short the breath,
Presages of approaching death.
When all eternity's in sight,
The brightest day or blackest night;
When death shall break the building down,
And let thee into worlds unknown.
O come my soul, the matter weigh!
How wilt thou leave thy kindred clay;
And how the unknown region try,
And launch into eternity.
Cleanse me, O God, with blood divine,
Renew my heart, and make me thine;
That when th' important hour shall come,
My soul shall triumph o'er the tomb.
Then shall I bid the world adieu,
Nor fear what ghastly death can do;
But calmly lean on Jesu's breast,
And sweetly close my eyes to rest.
WHEN bending o'er the brink of life,
My trembling soul shall stand;
Waiting to pass death's awful flood,
Great God, at thy command;
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