Hymns for Christian Devotion

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549. L. M. Mrs. Mackay.

"Asleep in Christ."

1 Asleep in Jesus! blessed sleep!
From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the dread of foes.

2 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest!
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woes shall dim that hour,
Which manifests the Saviour's power!

3 Asleep in Jesus! time nor space
Debars this precious hiding place;
On Indian plains, or Lapland's snows,
Believers find the same repose.

4 Asleep in Jesus! far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.

550. C. M. 8l. Anonymous.

The Resurrection.

1 All nature dies and lives again:
The flowers that paint the field,
The trees that crown the mountain's brow,
And boughs and blossoms yield,--
Resign the honors of their form
At winter's stormy blast,
And leave the naked, leafless plain
A desolated waste.

2 Yet, soon reviving, plants and flowers
Anew shall deck the plain;
The woods shall hear the voice of spring,
And flourish green again.
So, to the dreary grave consigned,
Man sleeps in death's dark gloom,
Until th' eternal morning wake
The slumbers of the tomb.

3 O may the grave become to me
The bed of peaceful rest,
Whence I shall gladly rise at length,
And mingle with the blessed!
Cheered by this hope, with patient mind
I'll wait Heaven's high decree,
Till the appointed period come
When death shall set me free.

551. C. M. Sir J. E. Smith.

The Changes of Nature Types of Immortality.

1 As twilight's gradual veil is spread
Across the evening sky;
So man's bright hours decline in shade,
And mortal comforts die.

2 The bloom of spring, the summer rose,
In vain pale winter brave;
Nor youth, nor age, nor wisdom knows
A ransom from the grave.

3 But morning dawns and spring revives,
And genial hours return;
So man's immortal soul survives,
And scorns the mouldering urn.

4 When this vain scene no longer charms,
Or swiftly fades away,
He sinks into a Father's arms,
Nor dreads the coming day.

552. Peculiar M. H. Ware, Jr.

Resurrection of Christ.

1 Lift your glad voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die:
Vain were the terrors that gathered around him,
And short the dominion of death and the grave;
He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound him
Resplendent in glory, to live and to save:
Loud was the chorus of angels on high,--
The Saviour hath risen, and man shall not die.

2 Glory to God in full anthems of joy,
The being he gave us death cannot destroy:
Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow,
If tears were our birthright, and death were our end;
But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow,
And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend:
Lift, then, your voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die.

553. 7s. M. Cudworth.

The Same.

1 Christ, the Lord, is risen to-day,
Sons of men and angels say;
Raise your songs of triumph high:
Sing, ye heavens, and, earth, reply.

2 Love's redeeming work is done,
Fought the fight, the battle won;
Lo our Sun's eclipse is o'er;
Lo! he sets in blood no more.

3 Vain the stone, the watch, the seal;
Christ hath burst the gates of hell;
Death in vain forbids his rise;
Christ hath opened paradise.

4 Soar we now where Christ hath led,
Following our exalted Head:
Made like him, like him we rise;
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies.

554. C. M. Sir J. E. Smith.

Nature Transitory--the Soul Immortal.

1 See lovely nature raise her head,
In various graces dressed;
Her lucid robe by ocean spread,
Her verdant, flowery vest.

2 How glorious are those orbs of light,
In all their bright array,
That gem the ebon brow of night,
Or pour the blaze of day!

3 One gem of purest ray, divine,
Alone disclaims her power;
Still brighter shall its glories shine,
When hers are seen no more.

4 Her pageants pass, nor leave a trace
The soul no change shall fear;
The God of nature and of grace
Has stamped his image there.

555. C. M. Watts.

A Prospect of Heaven.

1 There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Eternal day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.

3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
And Jordan rolled between.

4 O could we make our doubts remove,--
Those gloomy doubts that rise,--
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes.

5 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,--
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.

556. S. M. Stennett.

Surpassing Glories of Eternity.

1 How various and how new
Are thy compassions, Lord!
Each morning shall thy mercies show,--
Each night thy truth record.

2 Thy goodness, like the sun,
Dawned on our early days,
Ere infant reason had begun
To form our lips to praise.

3 But we expect a day
Still brighter far than this,
When death shall bear our souls away
To realms of light and bliss.

4 Nor shall that radiant day,
So joyfully begun,
In evening shadows die away
Beneath the setting sun.

5 How various and how new
Are thy compassions, Lord!
Eternity thy love shall show,
And all thy truth record.

557. 8s. & 6s. M. W. B. Tappan.

Heaven Anticipated.

1 There is an hour of peaceful rest
To mourning wanderers given;
There is a joy for souls distressed,
A balm for every wounded breast;
'Tis found alone in heaven.

2 There is a home for weary souls,
By sins and sorrows driven,
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,
And all is drear--'tis heaven.

3 There faith lifts up the tearless eye,
The heart no longer riven,--
And views the tempest passing by,
Sees evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in heaven.

4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given;
There rays divine disperse the gloom;
Beyond the dark and narrow tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven.

558. C. M. Christian Psalmist.

The Society of Heaven.

1 Jerusalem! my glorious home!
Name ever dear to me!
When shall my labors have an end
In joy, and peace and thee?
When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls
And pearly gates behold?
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold.

2 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know:
Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes
I onward press to you.
Why should I shrink at pain and woe?
Or feel at death dismay?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.

3 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there,
Around my Saviour stand;
And soon my friends in Christ below
Will join the glorious band.
Jerusalem! my glorious home!
My soul still pants for thee;
Then shall my labors have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.

559. S. M. Mrs. Steele.

Heaven.

1 Far from these scenes of night
Unbounded glories rise,
And realms of infinite delight,
Unknown to mortal eyes.

2 No cloud those regions know,
Forever bright and fair;
For sin, the source of mortal woe,
Can never enter there.

3 There night is never known,
Nor sun's faint, sickly ray;
But glory from th' eternal throne
Spreads everlasting day.

4 O may this prospect fire
Our hearts with ardent love!
And lively faith and strong desire
Bear every thought above.

560. L. M. Anonymous.

The World to Come.

1 There is a world we have not seen,
That wasting time can ne'er destroy,
Where mortal footstep hath not been,
Nor ear hath caught its sounds of joy.

2 That world to come! and O how blest!--
Fairer than prophets ever told;
And never did an angel-guest
One half its blessedness unfold.

3 It is all holy and serene,--
The land of glory and repose;
And there, to dim the radiant scene,
No tear of sorrow ever flows.

4 It is not fanned by summer gale;
'Tis not refreshed by vernal showers;
It never needs the moon-beam pale,
For there are known no evening hours.

5 There forms unseen by mortal eye,
Too glorious for our sight to bear,
Are walking with their God on high,
And waiting our arrival there.

561. C. M. H. Ballou.

Heavenly Zion.

1 Behold, on Zion's heavenly shore,
A pure and countless band,
Whose conflicts and whose toils are o'er,
In glorious order stand.

2 From earth's remotest bounds they came,
From tribulations great,
And, through the victories of the Lamb,
Have reached the heavenly state.

3 Hunger and thirst they know no more,
From burning heats refreshed;
The Lamb shall feed them from his store,
And give them endless rest.

4 God all their tears shall wipe away,
And they his wonders tell,
While in his temple they shall stay,
And God with them shall dwell.

562. 7s. M. Raffles.

The Saints in Glory.

1 High, in yonder realms of light,
Dwell the raptured saints above,
Far beyond our feeble sight,
Happy in Immanuel's love.

2 Happy spirits, ye are fled
Where no grief can entrance find,
Lulled to rest the aching head,
Soothed the anguish of the mind.

3 'Mid the chorus of the skies,
'Mid the angelic lyres above
Hark! their songs melodious rise,--
Songs of praise to Jesus' love.

563. S. M. R. Palmer.

Heavenly Rest.

1 And is there, Lord, a rest,
For weary souls designed,
Where not a care shall stir the breast,
Or sorrow entrance find?

2 Is there a blissful home,
Where kindred minds shall meet,
And live and love, nor ever roam
From that serene retreat?

3 Forever blessed they,
Whose joyful feet shall stand,
While endless ages waste away,
Amid that glorious land.

4 My soul would thither tend,
While toilsome years are given;
Then let me, gracious God, ascend
To sweet repose in heaven.

564. L. M. Anonymous.

The Better Land.

1 There is a land mine eye hath seen,
In visions of enraptured thought
So bright that all which spreads between
Is with its radiant glory fraught;--

2 A land upon whose blissful shore
There rests no shadow, falls no stain;
There those who meet shall part no more,
And those long parted meet again.

3 Its skies are not like earthly skies,
With varying hues of shade and light;
It hath no need of suns to rise,
To dissipate the gloom of night.

4 There sweeps no desolating wind
Across that calm, serene abode;
The wanderer there a home may find,
Within the paradise of God.

565. C. H. M. Sacred Lyrics.

The Everlasting Bliss of Heaven.

1 Heaven is the land where troubles cease,
Where toils and tears are o'er;--
The blissful clime of rest and peace,
Where cares distract no more;
And not the shadow of distress
Dims its unsullied blessedness.

2 Heaven is the dwelling-place of joy,
The home of light and love,
Where faith and hope in rapture die,
And ransomed souls above
Enjoy, before th' eternal throne,
Bliss everlasting and unknown.

MOURNING AND CONSOLATION.

566. L. M. Bryant.

"Blessed are they that mourn."

1 Deem not that they are blessed alone,
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God, who loves our race, has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.

2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.

3 O, there are days of sunny rest
For every dark and troubled night!
Grief may abide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.

4 And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier
Sheddest the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to thy arms again.

5 For God hath marked each anguished day,
And numbered every secret tear;
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.

567. 12s. & 11s. M. Heber.

Farewell to a Friend Departed.

1 Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee;
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;
The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee;
And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

2 Thou art gone to the grave; we no longer behold thee,
Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side:
But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,
And sinners may hope, since the Saviour hath died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave; and, its mansion forsaking,
Perchance thy weak spirit in doubt lingered long;
But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking,
And the sound thou didst hear was the seraphim's song.

4 Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee;
Since God was thy Refuge, thy Guardian, thy Guide;
He gave thee, he took thee, and he will restore thee;
And death has no sting, since the Saviour hath died.

568. C. M. Barbauld.

The Mourner's Thoughts of Heaven.

1 Not for the pious dead we weep;
Their sorrows now are o'er;
The sea is calm, the tempest past,
On that eternal shore.

2 O, might some dream of visioned bliss,
Some trance of rapture, show
Where, on the bosom of their God,
They rest from human woe!

3 Thence may their pure devotion's flame
On us, on us descend;
To us their strong aspiring hopes,
Their faith, their fervors lend.

4 Let these our shadowy path illume,
And teach the chastened mind
To welcome all that's left of good,
To all that's lost resigned.

569. L. M. Norton.

Blessedness of the Pious Dead.

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 noonday sun.

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

3 O, cheerless were our lengthened way;
But Heaven's own light dispels the gloom,
Streams downward from eternal day,
And casts a glory round the tomb.

4 O, stay thy tears: the blest above
Have hailed a spirit's heavenly birth,
And sung a song of joy and love;
Then why should anguish reign on earth?

570. S. M. Mrs. Sigourney.

"Weep for yourselves, and for your children."

1 We mourn for those who toil,
The slave who ploughs the main,
Or him who hopeless tills the soil
Beneath the stripe and chain:
For those who, in the race,
O'erwearied and unblest,
A host of restless phantoms chase;--
Why mourn for those who rest?

2 We mourn for those who sin?
Bound in the tempter's snare,
Whom syren pleasure beckons in
To prisons of despair;
Whose hearts, by passions torn,
Are wrecked on folly's shore;--
But why in sorrow should we mourn
For those who sin no more?

3 We mourn for those who weep;
Whom stern afflictions bend
With anguish o'er the lowly sleep
Of lover or of friend:
But they to whom the sway
Of pain and grief is o'er,
Whose tears our God hath wiped away,
O mourn for them no more!

571. L. M. W. J. Loring.

"Weep not for me!"

1 Why weep for those, frail child of woe,
Who've fled and left thee mourning here?
Triumphant o'er their latest foe,
They glory in a brighter sphere.

2 Weep not for them;--beside thee now
Perhaps they watch with guardian care,
And witness tears that idly flow
O'er those who bliss of angels share.

3 Or round their Father's throne, above,
With raptured voice his praise they sing;
Or on his messages of love,
They journey with unwearied wing.

4 Weep, weep no more; their voices raise
The song of triumph high to God;
And wouldst thou join their song of praise,
Walk humbly in the path they trod.

572. S. H. M. Montgomery.

Friends die, but to live again.

1 Friend after friend departs;
Who hath not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts,
That finds not here an end.
Were this frail world our only rest,
Living or dying, none were blest.

2 There is a world above,
Where parting is unknown,--
A whole eternity of love
And blessedness alone;
And faith beholds the dying here,
Translated to that happier sphere.

3 Thus, star by star declines
Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines
To pure and perfect day.
Nor sink those stars in empty night--
They hide themselves in heaven's own light.

573. C. M. Anonymous.

Hope of Reunion above.

1 When floating on life's troubled sea,
By storms and tempests driven,
Hope, with her radiant finger, points
To brighter scenes in heaven.

2 She bids the storms of life to cease,
The troubled breast be calm;
And in the wounded heart she pours
Religion's healing balm.

3 Her hallowed influence cheers life's hours
Of sadness and of gloom;
She guides us through this vale of tears,
To joys beyond the tomb.

4 She bids the anguished heart rejoice:
Though earthly ties are riven,
We still may hope to meet again
In yonder peaceful heaven.

574. C. M. Watts.

Comfort under Bereavements.

1 Why do we mourn departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to his arms.

2 Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And left a long perfume.

3 The graves of all his saints he blest,
And softened every bed:
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head?

575. 11s. & 10s. M. Spiritual Songs.

Invitation to the Mercy-seat.

1 Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish;
Come, at the mercy-seat fervently kneel:
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

2 Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.

576. 7s. M. J. H. Bancroft.

The Christian's Burial.

1 Brother, though from yonder sky
Cometh neither voice nor cry,
Yet we know for thee to-day
Every pain hath passed away.

2 Not for thee shall tears be given,
Child of God and heir of heaven;
For he gave thee sweet release;
Thine the Christian's death of peace.

3 Well we know thy living faith
Had the power to conquer death;
As a living rose may bloom
By the border of the tomb.

4 While we weep as Jesus wept,
Thou shall sleep as Jesus slept:
With thy Saviour thou shalt rest,
Crowned, and glorified and blest.

577. C. M. Anonymous.

Peaceful Death of the Righteous.

1 I looked upon the righteous man,
And saw his parting breath,
Without a struggle or a sigh,
Serenely yield to death:
There was no anguish on his brow,
Nor terror in his eye;
The spoiler aimed a fatal dart,
But lost the victory.

2 I looked upon the righteous man,
And heard the holy prayer
Which rose above that breathless form,
To soothe the mourners' care,
And felt how precious was the gift
He to his loved ones gave,--
The stainless memory of the just,
The wealth beyond the grave.

3 I looked upon the righteous man;
And all our earthly trust
Of pleasure, vanity, or pride,
Seemed lighter than the dust,
Compared with his celestial gain,--
A home above the sky:
O, grant us, Lord, his life to live,
That we like him may die.

578. L. M. Fergus.

At a Funeral.

1 Farewell! what power of words can tell
The sorrows of a last farewell,
When, standing by the mournful bier,
We mingle with our prayers a tear!

2 When memory tells of days gone by,
Of blighted hope and vanished joy:
Bright hopes that withered like a flower,
Cut down and faded in an hour.

3 Give forth thy chime, thou solemn bell,
Thou grave, unfold thy marble cell;
Oh earth! receive upon thy breast
The weary trav'ller to his rest.

4 Oh God, extend thy arms of love,
A spirit seeketh thee above!
Ye heav'nly palaces unclose,
Receive the weary to repose!

579. C. M. L. H. Sigourney.

Burial of a Friend.

1 As, bowed by sudden storms, the rose
Sinks on the garden's breast,
Down to the grave our brother goes,
In silence there to rest.

2 No more with us his tuneful voice
The hymn of praise shall swell;
No more his cheerful heart rejoice
When peals the Sabbath bell.

3 Yet, if, in yonder cloudless sphere
Amid a sinless throng,
He utters in his Saviour's ear
The everlasting song,--

4 No more we'll mourn the absent friend,
But lift our earnest prayer,
And daily every effort bend
To rise and join him there.

580. C. M. Houghton.

The Re-union of Friends after Death.

1 Blest be the hour when friends shall meet,
Shall meet to part no more,
And with celestial welcome greet,
On an immortal shore.

2 Sweet hope, deep cherished, not in vain,
Now art thou richly crowned!
All that was dead revives again;
All that was lost is found!

3 The parent eyes his long-lost child;
Brothers on brothers gaze:
The tear of resignation mild
Is changed to joy and praise.

4 And while remembrance, lingering still,
Draws joy from sorrowing hours;
New prospects rise, new pleasures fill
The soul's capacious powers.

5 Their Father fans their generous flame,
And looks complacent down;
The smile that owns their filial claim
Is their immortal crown.

581. L. M. Anonymous.

"Not lost, but gone before."

1 Say, why should friendship grieve for those
Who safe arrive on Canaan's shore?
Released from all their hurtful foes,
They are not lost--but gone before.

2 How many painful days on earth
Their fainting spirits numbered o'er!
Now they enjoy a heavenly birth;
They are not lost--but gone before.

3 Dear is the spot where Christians sleep,
And sweet the strain which angels pour;
O why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost--but gone before.

582. L. M. Epis. Coll.

Death of an Infant.

1 As the sweet flower that scents the morn,
But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,
Thus swiftly fled its life away.

2 It died ere its expanding soul
Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,
Or ever quenched its sacred fires.

3 Yet the sad hour that took the boy
Perhaps has spared a heavier doom,--
Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy,
Or from the pangs of ills to come.

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