LEOMINSTER. S. M. D. Slowly. Arr. by A. S. SULLIVAN. A few more years shall roll, A few more seasons come, And we shall be with those that rest A-sleep with-in the tomb: REFRAIN. Then, O my Lord, pre-pare My soul for that great day; Oh, wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins a - way. It is not death to die- To leave this weary road, And 'mid the broth-er-hood on high, To be at home with God. 1156 "Where is Thy Victory?” IT is not death to die To leave this weary road, And 'mid the brotherhood on high, To be at home with God. 2 It is not death to close The eye long dimmed by tears, And wake, in glorious repose To spend eternal years. 3 It is not death to bear The wrench that sets us free From dungeon chain,-to breathe the air Of boundless liberty. 4 It is not death to fling Aside this sinful dust, And rise, on strong exulting wing, To live among the just. 5 Jesus, thou Prince of life! Thy chosen cannot die; Like thee, they conquer in the strife, To reign with thee on high. G. W. Bethune. I "THY will be done!" || In devious way The hurrying stream of | life may run ; || Yet still our grateful hearts shall say, "Thy will be done." 2 "Thy will be done!" | If o'er us shine A gladdening and a prosperous | sun, || This prayer will make it more divine "Thy will be done!" 3 "Thy will be done!" || Though shrouded o'er Our path with gloom, || one comfort one || Is ours: to breathe, while we adore, | "Thy will be done." John Bowring. RUTHERFORD. P. M. C. D'URBAN. The sands of time are sinking; The dawn of heav-en breaks; The summer morn I've sighed for, The fair, sweet morn a - wakes. Dark, dark hath been the mid night; But THE sands of time are sinking; The dawn of heaven breaks; The summer morn I've sighed for, The fair, sweet morn awakes. Dark, dark hath been the midnight; But dayspring is at hand, And glory-glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. 2 Oh, Christ! he is the fountain, The deep, sweet well of love; The streams on earth I've tasted, More deep I'll drink above; There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand, And glory-glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. 3 With mercy and with judgment Mrs. Anne R. Cousin. 1161 is House of Wine." OH, Christ, he is the fountain, The deep, sweet well of love! The streams on earth I've tasted, More deep I'll drink above: There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand, And glory-glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. 2 Oh, I am my Belovéd's, And my Belovéd's mine! I know no other stand, 3 The bride eyes not her garment, But her dear Bridegroom's face; I will not gaze at glory, But on my King of Grace- Mrs. Anne R. Cousin. thousand thunders,Shakes the vast crea-tion round: How the summons Will the sinner's heart confound! 1163 "Day of Wonders." DAY of judgment! day of wonders! Hark! the trumpet's awful sound, Louder than a thousand thunders, Shakes the vast creation round: How the summons Will the sinner's heart confound! 2 See the Judge, our nature wearing, Clothed in majesty divine! You, who long for his appearing, Then shall say, "This God is mine!" Gracious Saviour! Own me in that day for thine. 3 At his call, the dead awaken, What will then become of thee? JUDGMENT. P. M. MARTIN LUTHER. Great God! what do I The Judge of man I see and hear! The end of things created! The trumpet sounds; the graves re-store The dead which they con-tained before; Pre- pare, my soul, to meet him. GREAT God, what do I see and hear! On clouds of glory seated: 2 The dead in Christ shall first arise, On those prepared to meet him. 3 But sinners, filled with guilty fears, 4 Great God! what do I see and hear! William B. Collyer. |