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Page 116 - Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit! rest thee now ! E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust, to its narrow house beneath ! Soul, to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 10 - Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, That mourns thy exit from a world like this ; Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss • No more confined to grov'ling scenes of night, No more a tenant pent in mortal clay, Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, And trace thy journey to the realms of day.
Page 180 - Behold and see as you pass by As you are now so once was I; As I am now, so you must be Prepare for death and follow me.
Page 106 - Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out sweetly there.
Page 94 - Thou art gone to the grave — but 'twere wrong to deplore thee, When God was thy ransom, thy guardian, thy guide ; He gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee, Where death hath no sting, since the Saviour hath died.
Page 49 - Hark ! how the sacred calm, that breathes around, Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whispering from the ground, A grateful earnest of eternal peace.
Page 11 - Bury the dead; — and weep In stillness o'er the loss; Bury the dead ;— in Christ they sleep Who bore on earth His cross, And from the grave their dust shall rise In His own image to the skies.
Page 57 - Smitten friends Are angels sent on errands full of love ; For us they languish, and for us they die...