Death

821 Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah

1 GUIDE me, O Thou great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land;

I am weak, but Thou art mighty, Hold me with Thy powerful hand;

Bread of heaven!

Feed me now and evermore.

2 Open now the crystal fountain Whence the healing streams do flow;

Let the fiery cloudy pillar, Lead me all my journey through:

Strong Deliv'rer! Be Thou still my strength and shield.

3 When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fears subside;

Death of deaths, and hell's destruction, Land me safe on Canaan's side:

Songs of praises I will ever give to Thee.

William Williams, 1773

822 Victory over Death

1 OH for an overcoming faith To cheer my dying hours; To triumph o'er the monster death, And all his frightful powers!

2 Joyful, with all the strength I have, My quivering lips should sing, Where is thy boasted victory, Grave? And Where's the monster's sting?

3 If sin be pardon'd, I'm secure;

Death hath no sting beside; The law gives sin its damning power; But Christ, my ransom, died.

4 Now to the God of victory Immortal thanks be paid, Who makes us conquerors while we die Through Christ our living Head.

Isaac Watts, 1709

823 "The Time is short."

1 THE time is short ere all that live Shall hence depart, their God to meet: And each a strict account must give, At Jesu's awful judgment-seat.

2 The time is short, oh, who can tell How short his time below may be?

To-day on earth his soul may dwell, To-morrow in eternity.

3 The time is short; sinner, beware! Nor squander these brief hours away;

Oh flee to Christ by faith and prayer, Ere yet shall close this fleeting day.

4 The time is short; ye saints, rejoice! Your Saviour-Judge will quickly come;

Soon shall you hear the Bridegroom's voice Invite you to His heavenly home.

5 The time is short, ere time shall cease, Eternity be usher'd in, And death shall die. and joy and peace O'er the new earth benignant reign.

Joseph Hoskins, 1789, a.

824 The solemn Hour

1 WHERE is an hour when I must part With all I hold most dear; And life with its best hopes will then As nothingness appear.

2 There is an hoar when I must sink Beneath the stroke of death; And yield to Him, who gave it first, My struggling, vital breath.

3 There is an hour when I must stand Before the judgment-seat; And ail ray sins, and all my foes, In awful vision meet.

4 There is an hour when I must look On one eternity; And nameless woe, or blissful life, My endless portion be.

5 O Saviour, then, in all my need Be near, be near to me; And let my soul, by steadfast faith, Find life and heaven in Thee.

Andrew Reed, 1842.

825 Death and Eternity

1 STOOP down, my thoughts, that use to rise, Converse awhile with death:

Think how a gasping mortal lies, And pants away his breath.

2 His quivering lip hangs feebly down, His pulses faint and few;

Then speechless, with a doleful groan He bids the world adieu.

3 But, oh, the soul that never dies! At once it leaves the clay;

Ye thoughts, pursue it where it flies, And track its wondrous way.

4 Up to the courts where angels dwell, It mounts triumphant there; Or devils plunge it down to hell, In infinite despair.

5 And must my body faint and die? And must this soul remove?

Oh, for some guardian-angel nigh, To bear it safe above!

6 Jesus, to Thy dear faithful hand My naked soul I trust; And my flesh waits for Thy command, To drop into the dust.

Isaac Watts, 1709

826 Peace in the Prospect of Death

1 SHRINKING from the cold hand of death, I soon may gather up my feet; May swift resign this fleeting breath, And die, my fathers' God to meet.

2 Number'd among Thy people, I Expect with joy Thy face to see:

Because Thou didst for sinners die, Jesus, in death, remember me!

3 Oh that without a lingering groan I may the welcome word receive: My body with my charge lay down, And cease at once to work and live!

Charles Wesley, 1762, a.

827 The tolling Bell

1 OFT as the bell, with solemn toll, Speaks the departure of a soul, Let each one ask himself, "Am I Prepared, should I be call'd to die?"

2 Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death;

Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone, And plunged into a world unknown.

3 Then, leaving all I loved below, To God's tribunal I must go:

Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, And fix my everlasting state.

4 Lord Jesus, help me now to flee, And seek my hope alone in Thee;

Apply Thy blood, Thy Spirit give, Subdue my sin, and let me live.

5 Then when the solemn bell I hear, If saved from guilt, I need not fear; Nor would the thought distressing be, "Perhaps it next may toll for me!"

6 Rather, my spirit would rejoice, And long, and wish, to hear Thy voice;

Glad when it bids me earth resign, Secure of heaven, if Thou art mine.

John Newton, 1779.

828 It is not Death to Die.

1 IT is not death to die, To leave this weary road, And, 'midst the brotherhood on high, To be at home with God.

2 It is not death to close The eye long dimm'd 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. From the French;

George W. Bethune, 1847

829 Christ's Presence makes Death easy

1 WHY should we start, or fear to die?

What timorous worms we mortals are!

Death is the gate of endless joy, And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, the dying strife, Fright our approaching souls away;

Still we shrink back again to life, Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 Oh, if my Lord would came and meet, My soul should stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless through death's iron gate, Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd.

4 Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on His breast I lean my head, And breathe ray life out sweetly there.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

830 On a Believer's Death

1 IN vain my fancy strives to paint The moment after death, The glories that surround the saint, When yielding up his breath.

2 One gentle sigh the fetter breaks:

We scarce can say, "They're gone!"

Before the willing spirit takes Her mansion near the throne.

3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail, To trace her in her flight; No eye can pierce within the veil Which hides that world of light.

4 Thus much (and this is all) we know, They are completely blest; Have done with sin, and care, and woe, And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise His name, His face they always view;

Then let us followers be of them, That we may praise Him too.

John Newton, 1779.

831 Victory over Death

1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame, Quit, oh quit this mortal frame!

Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!

Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life.

2 Hark! they whisper: angels say, Sister spirit, come away.

What is this absorbs me quite—

Steals my senses—shuts my sight—

Drowns my spirit—draws my breath?

Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

3 The world recedes; it disappears!

Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring:

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!

O grave, where is thy victory?

O death, where is thy sting?

Alexander Pope, 1736.