Book of Hymns for Public and Private Devotion Part 58

1 Lowly and solemn be Thy children's cry to Thee, Father divine!

A hymn of suppliant breath, Owning that life and death Alike are Thine.

2 O Father, in that hour When earth all helping power Shall disavow; When spear, and s.h.i.+eld, and crown, In faintness are cast down, Sustain us Thou!

3 By him who bowed to take The death-cup for our sake, The thorn, the rod; From whom the last dismay Was not to pa.s.s away, Aid us, O G.o.d!

4 And now beside the grave, We call on Thee to save, Father divine!

Hear, hear our suppliant breath; Keep us, in life and death, Thine, only Thine!

345. 12 & 11s. M. Gaskell.

Life in Death.

1 Thanks, thanks unto G.o.d! who in mercy hath spoken The truths which have pierced through the spirit's sad gloom; Whose love with the light of its presence hath broken The darkness which hung o'er the desolate tomb.

2 What now shall affright us? A Father almighty Keeps watch round our footsteps wherever we go; His mercy is sleepless,--His wisdom unfailing,-- He knoweth each want and regardeth each woe.

3 Where now is death's terror? he comes as an angel To carry the spirit away to its rest; The gloom which he weareth is lost in the message He brings from the Being who loveth us best.

4 May we live ever true to the hopes He hath given, While they shed o'er our path a still holier light; Ever making us nearer and nearer to heaven, More pure our affections, our spirits more bright.

346. L. M. Norton.

O, Stay Thy Tears!

1 O, stay thy tears! for they are blest Whose days are past, whose toil is done; Here midnight care disturbs our rest, Here sorrow dims the morning sun.

2 For laboring virtue's anxious toil, For patient sorrow's stifled sigh, For faith that marks the conqueror's spoil, Heaven grants the recompense,--to die.

3 How blest are they whose transient years Pa.s.s like an evening meteor's flight, Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears, Whose course is short, unclouded, bright!

4 O, cheerless were our lengthened way, But heaven's own light dispels the gloom, Streams downward from eternal day, And sheds a glory round the tomb!

5 Then stay thy tears,--the blest above Have hailed a spirit's heavenly birth, Sung a new song of joy and love; Then why should anguish reign on earth?

347. L. M. Sarah F. Adams.

The Angel at the Tomb.

1 The mourners came, at break of day, Unto the garden sepulchre, With saddened hearts to weep and pray For him, the loved one, buried there.

What radiant light dispels the gloom?

An angel sits beside the tomb.

2 The earth doth mourn her treasures lost, All sepulchred beneath the snow, When wintry winds and chilling frost Have laid her summer glories low; The spring returns, the flow'rets bloom,-- An angel sits beside the tomb.

3 Then mourn we not beloved dead, E'en while we come to weep and pray; The happy spirit hath but fled To brighter realms of heavenly day; Immortal hope dispels the gloom;-- An angel sits beside the tomb.

348. 7 & 5s. M. Bowring.

Blessed Are the Dead.

1 Blessed, blessed are the dead In the Lord who die; Radiant is the path they tread Upward to the sky.

2 All their deeds of virtue done, Deeds of peace and love, Now are stars of glory strewn, Lighting them above.

349. S. M. Bowring.

O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

1 Where is thy sting, O death?

Grave! where thy victory?

The clod may sleep in dust beneath, The spirit will be free!

2 Both man and time have power O'er suffering, dying men; But death arrives, and in that hour The soul is freed again.

3 Then, death, where is thy sting?

And where thy victory, grave?

O'er your dark bourn the soul will spring To Him who loves to save.

350. L. M. Mrs. Barbauld.

His End is Peace.

1 How blest the righteous when he dies!