267 GOD of the spirits of mankind, As o'er the fading form inclin'd,
We watch a brother's fleeting breath,
Fix in our minds the thoughts of Death.
Oft as the bell with solemn toll
Informs us of a parting soul,
Teach us to think how short the space
Ere ours must quit its resting-place!
When to the earth the corpse we trust,
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Remind us of the coming day,
When ours must join its native clay!
And when we hear the awful word
That speaks of doom, and life restor'd,
Prompt each to ponder, "What shall be
That doom, that future life to me?"
GOD of our life, WHOSE records give
THY flock instruction how to live,
That, through THY SON our sins forgiv'n,
Our death may be the gate of Heav'n:
Oh, may each act when others die
Prove to ourselves a warning cry,
Advance us on our Heav'nward road,
And fit us more to meet our GOD! Amen.
268 Days and moments quickly flying, Blend the living with the dead,
Soon will you and I be lying
Each within our narrow bed.
Soon our souls to GOD, WHO gave them,
Swiftly will have sped away;
Able now by grace to save them—
Oh, that while we can we may !
JESU, Infinite REDEEMER,
Maker of this mighty frame,
Teach, O teach us to remember
What we are and whence we came―
Whence we came and whither wending:
Soon we must through darkness go,
To inherit bliss unending,
Or eternity of woe.
As the tree falls, so must it lie;
As the man lives, so will he die.
As the man dies, so must he be
Through all the length of Eternity.
269 A few more years shall roll,
A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those that rest
Asleep within the tomb:
Then, O my LORD, prepare
My soul for that great day;
O wash me in THY precious Blood,
And take my sins away.
A few more suns shall set
O'er these dark hills of time,
And we shall be where suns are not,
A far serener clime:
Then, O my LORD, prepare
My soul for that blest day;
O wash me in THY precious Blood,
And take my sins away.
A few more storms shall beat On this wild rocky shore, And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more: Then, O my LORD, prepare My soul for that calm day; O wash me in THY precious Blood, And take my sins away.
A few more struggles here,
A few more partings o'er,
A few more toils, a few more tears,
And we shall weep no more:
Then, O my LORD, prepare
My soul for that bright day;
O wash me in THY precious Blood,
And take my sins away.
'Tis but a little while
And He shall come again,
WHO died that we might live, WHO lives
That we with HIM may reign:
Then, O my LORD, prepare
My soul for that glad day;
O wash me in THY precious Blood,
And take my sins away. Amen.
COMMEMORATION OF APOSTLES.
Supreme quales Arbiter.
270 What feeble instruments, O Lord,
Fulfil THY wondrous plan!
How mean the channels which convey
THY grace to sinful man!
Yes, frail the vessels, but within
The heavenly torch is laid,
Which only waits THY word, to burst
Like lightning through the shade.
A feeble band, but led by CHRIST,
Hell's bulwarks they o'erthrow:
So fell, at Israel's trump alone,
The walls of Israel's foe.
O JESU, may THY trumpet-clang
Our sluggish souls excite!
May our thick darkness be dispell'd,
By THY celestial light!
And now to GOD, the THREE in ONE,
Be praise and glory given,
WHO calleth us, from sin's dark night,
To share the beams of Heaven. Amen.
Exultet orbis gaudiis.
Let the round world with songs rejoice;
Let Heaven return the joyful voice;
All mindful of th' Apostles' fame,
Earth, sky, their SOVEREIGN's praise proclaim!
THOU, at WHOSE word they bore the light
Of Gospel truth o'er heathen night,
Oh, still to us that light impart,
To glad our eye and cheer our heart!
THOU, at WHOSE will to them was given
The key that shuts and opens Heaven,
Our chains unbind, our loss repair,
Oh, grant us grace to enter there!
THOU, at WHOSE will they preach'd the word,
Which cur'd disease, which health conferr'd,
To us its healing powers prolong,
The weak support, confirm the strong:
That when THY SON again shall come,
And speak the world's unerring doom,
HE may with them pronounce us bless'd,
And place us in THY endless rest.
TO THEE, O FATHER; SON, to THEE;
TO THEE, bless'd SPIRIT, glory be!
So was it aye for ages past,
So shall through endless ages last. Amen.
Eterna Christi munera.
272 LORD, WHO didst bless THY chosen band,
And forth commission'd send
To spread THу Name from land to land-
TO THEE Our hymns ascend.
The Princes of THY Church were they,
Chiefs unsubdued in fight,
Soldiers on earth, of Heaven's array,
The world's unerring light.
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