gERMON XLIII. HYMN FOR SERMON XLIII. Death a Blessing to the Saints. 7i0 flesh and nature dread to die? And timorous thoughts our minds en- slave ? But grace can raise our hopes on high, And quell the terrors of the grave. What! Shall we run to gain the crown, Yet grieveto think the goal so near? Afraid to have our labours done, And finish this important war ? Do we not dwell in clouds below, And little know the good we love ii Why shouldwe like this twilight so, When 'tis all noon inworlds above ? There shall we see him face to face, There shall we know the Great unknown, And Jesus, with his glorious grace, $bines in full light amidst the throne. 627 When we put off this fleshly load, We're from a thousand mischiefs free, For ever present with our God, Where we have long'd and wish'd to be. No more shall pride or passion rise, Or envy fret, ormalice roar, Or sorrow mournwith downcast eyes,, And sin defile our souls no more. 'Tis best, 'tis infinitely best, To go where tempters cannot come, Where saints and angels ever blest, Dwell and enjoy theirheavenly home. O for a visit from my God, To drive my fearsof death away, And help me thro' this darksome road, To realms of everlasting flay ! E19 or ru& rtesr voLC3la, Edward Daines, Printer, Leeds.
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