CCCLXI. The Chriftian rejoicing in the Views of Death and Judgment. Rev. xxii. 20.

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BEHOLD I come, (the Saviour cries)
"On Wings of Love I fly:"

So come, Dear Lord, (my Soul replies)
And bring Salvation nigh.

2 Come, loofe thefe Bonds of Flesh and Sin:
Come, end my Pains and Cares;
Bear me to thy ferene Abode
Beyond the Clouds and Stars.

3 I greet the Meffengers of Death,
By which Thou call'ft me Home;
But doubly greet that joyful Hour,
When Thou thyself shalt come.

4 Come, plead thy Father's injur'd Cause,
And make thy Glory fhine;

Come, roufe thy Servants mould'ring Duft,
And their whole Frame refine.

5 O come amidst th' Angelic Hofts
Their humble Name to own;
And bear the full Affembly back
To dwell around thy 'Throne.

6 With winged Speed, Redeemer dear,
Bring on th' illuftrious Day:

Come, left our Spirits droop and faint
Beneath thy long Delay.

HYMNS

ON

PARTICULAR OCCASIONS

AND IN

UNCOMMON MEASURES.

HYMN CCCLXII.

A Morning-HYMN, to be used at awaking and

A

rifing.

WAKE, my Soul, to meet the Day;
Unfold thy drowsy Eyes,

And burft the pond'rous Chain that loads
Thine active Faculties.

2 God's Guardian-Shield was round me spread
In my defencelefs Sleep:

Let Him have all my waking Hours,
Who doth my Slumbers keep.

3 [The Work of each immortal Soul
Attentive Care demands;

Think then what painful Labours wait
The faithful Paftor's Hands.]

4 My Moments fly with winged Pace,
And swift my Hours are hurl'd;
And Death with rapid March comes on
T' unveil th' eternal World..

5

I for this Hour must give Account
Before God's awful Throne :
Let not this Hour neglected pass,
As thousands more have done.

6 Pardon, O God, my former Sloth,
And arm my Soul with Grace;
As, rifing now, I feal my Vows
To profecute thy Ways.

7 Bright Sun of Righteoufnefs arife;
Thy radiant Beams difplay,

And guide my dark bewilder'd Soul
To everlasting Day.

CCCLXIII. An Evening - HYMN, to be when compofing one's Self to Sleep.

I.

INTERVAL of grateful Shade,
Welcome to my weary Head!
Welcome Slumbers to mine Eyes,
Tir'd with glaring Vanities!
My great Mafter still allows
Needful Periods of Repofe :
By my heav'nly Father bleft,
Thus I give my Pow'rs to Rest ;
P 2

Heav'

Heav'nly Father! gracious Name!
Night and Day his Love the fame :
Far be each fufpicious Thought,
Ev'ry anxious Care forgot:

Thou, my ever-bounteous GoD,
Crown'st my Days with various Good;
Thy kind Eye, that cannot fleep,
Thefe defenceless Hours fhall keep :
Bleft Viciffitude to me!

Day and Night I'm ftill with Thee.

II.

What tho' downy Slumbers flee,
Strangers to my Couch and me?
Sleepless well I know to rest,
Lodg'd within my Father's Breaft.
While the Empress of the Night
Scatters mild her Silver Light;
While the vivid Planets ftray
Various thro' their mystic Way;
While the Stars unnumber'd roll
Round the ever-conftant Pole;
Far above these spangled Skies
All my Soul to God fhall rife ;
'Midft the Silence of the Night
Mingling with thofe Angels bright,
Whofe harmonious Voices raise
Ceafelefs Love and ceafelefs Praise :
Thro' the Throng his gentle Ear
Shall my
tunelefs Accents hear:
From on high doth He impart
Secret Comfort to my Heart.
He in thefe ferenest Hours
Guides my intellectual Pow'rs,

And

And his Spirit doth diffuse,
Sweeter far than Midnight Dews;
Lifting all my Thoughts above
On the Wings of Faith and Love.
Bleft Alternative to me,

Thus to fleep, or wake, with Thee.

II.

What if Death my Sleep invade?
Should I be of Death afraid?
Whilft encircled by thine Arm,
Death may ftrike, but cannot harm.
What if Beams of op'ning Day
Shine around my breathless Clay?
Brighter Vifions from on high
Shall regale my mental Eye.
Tender Friends a while may mourn
Me from their Embraces torn;
Dearer better Friends I have

In the Realms beyond the Grave.
See the Guardian-Angels nigh
Wait to waft my Soul on high!
See the golden Gates difplay'd!
See the Crown to grace my Head!
See a Flood of facred Light,
Which no more fhall yield to Night!
Tranfitory World, farewel!

Jefus calls with him to dwell.
With thy heav'nly Prefence bleft,
Death is Life, and Labour Reft.
Welcome Sleep, or Death, to me,
Still fecure, for ftill with Thee.
P 3

CCCLXI