The Virginia selection of Psalms, hymns and spiritual songs .. . my sins forgiven;And all that holiness impartWhich fits the soul for heaven. 4 Then welcome the kind hour of death, That ends this painful strife !The hand that stops this mortal breathWill give eternal life. 473, 474 FUNEKAL. Part I. 473 S. M. Doddridge. Reflections on past Generations, 1 TXOW swift the torrent rolls, That bears us to the sea!The tide which hurries thoughtless soulsTo vast eternity ! 2 Our fathers ! where are they, With all they calPd their own ?—Their joys and griefs—and hopes and caresAnd wealth and honour—gon
The Virginia selection of Psalms, hymns and spiritual songs .. . my sins forgiven;And all that holiness impartWhich fits the soul for heaven. 4 Then welcome the kind hour of death, That ends this painful strife !The hand that stops this mortal breathWill give eternal life. 473, 474 FUNEKAL. Part I. 473 S. M. Doddridge. Reflections on past Generations, 1 TXOW swift the torrent rolls, That bears us to the sea!The tide which hurries thoughtless soulsTo vast eternity ! 2 Our fathers ! where are they, With all they calPd their own ?—Their joys and griefs—and hopes and caresAnd wealth and honour—gone ! 3 But joy or grief succeeds Beyond our mortal thought,While still the remnant of their dustLies in the grave forgot. 4 There, where the fathers lie, Must all the children dwell;Nor other heritage possess,But such a gloomy cell. 5 God of our fathers, hear, Thou everlasting Friend!While we as on lifes utmost verge,Our souls to thee commend. 6 Of all the pious dead May we the footsteps trace,Till with them, in the land of light,We dwell before thy Watts Lyrics. Part I. FUNERAL. 475 With longing- eyes and looks divine,Smiling and pleased in death ; 2 How we could een contend to lay Our limbs upon that bed !We ask thine envoy to conveyOur spirits in his stead. 3 Our souls are rising- on the wing-, To venture in his place !For when grim death has lost his sting,He has an angels face. 4 Jesus, then purge my crimes away ; Tis guilt creates my fears,Tis guilt gives death his fierce array,And all the arms he bares. 5 O if my threatning sins were gone, And death had lost his sting,I could invite the angel on,And chide his lazy wing. 6 Joyful Id lay this body down, And leave the lifeless clay,Without a sigh, without a groan,And stretch and soar away. 475 S. M. Watts Psalms. The Frailty and Shortness of Life. 1 T ORD, what a feeble piece Is this our mortal frame!Our life, how poor a trifle tis,That scarce deserves the name! 2 Alas, the brittle clayThat built our body first!
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