2. He sees his heavenly Father's hand,
And lifts his eyes above;
Humbly he bows beneath the rod,
Whose every stroke is love.

3. The peaceful fruits of righteousness,
Compensate all his pain;

His losses, whilst they make him poor,
Increase his better gain.

4. When sorrows, like a storm, assail,
He bends and bears the blast:
Stronger by weakness he becomes;
And shaken, stands more fast.

5. So the weak reed, by yielding, stands,
Secure from every harm;

While the tall cedar, which resists,
Falls by the mighty storm.

482

C. M The same.

IN trouble and in grief, O God,

Thy smile hath cheered my way; And joy hath budded from each thorn, That round my footsteps lay.

2. The hours of pain have yielded good, Which prosperous days refused;

As herbs, though senseless when entire, Spread fragrance when they're bruised. 3. The oak strikes deeper, as its boughs By furious blasts are driven : So life's vicissitudes the more, Have fixed my heart on heaven.

4. All-gracious Lord! whate'er my lot
In other times may be,

I'll welcome still the heaviest grief,
That brings me near to Thee.

483 L. M. Trust in God under Bodily Afflictions.

STEELE.

WHY is my heart with grief opprest?
Can all the pains I feel, or fear,

Make thee, my soul, forget thy rest, Forget that God, thy God, is near? 2. Mortality's unnumbered ills,

Are all beneath His sovereign hand;
Each pain which this frail body feels,
Attends obedient his command.

3. Lord! form my temper to thy will:
If Thou my faith and patience prove,
May every painful stroke fulfil,
Thy purposes of faithful love.

1, O may this weak, this fainting mind,
A Father's hand adoring see;

Confess thee just, and wise, and kind, And trust thy word, and cleave to Thee. 484 C. M. Gospel Comforts in time of Sickness.

TOPLADY.

WHEN languor and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,

'Tis sweet to look beyond our cage,
And long to soar away.

2. Sweet to look inward, and attend
The voice of heavenly love;
Sweet to look upward to the throne,
Where Jesus pleads above.

3. Sweet is the thought, by grace divine
My sins on Him were laid;
Sweet to remember that His death,
My debt of suffering paid.

4. Sweet, Lord, thy faithfulness to trace,
Thy love, which ne'er can end;
Sweet on thy covenant of grace,
For all things to depend.

5. Sweet in the confidence of faith,
To trust Thy truth divine;
Sweet to lie passive in Thy hands,
And have no will but thine.

6. If such the sweetness of the streams,
What will that fountain be,

Where saints and angels draw their bliss,
Immediately from Thee!

Praise for Recovery from Sickness. Hymn 302.

DEATH, BURIAL, AND

RESURRECTION.

485 L. M. Death, a Journey.

DODDRIDGE.

BEHOLD the path which mortals tread,
Down to the regions of the dead!

Nor will the fleeting moments stay,
Nor can we measure back our way.
2. Our kindred and our friends are gone;
Know, O my soul, this doom thy own :

Feeble as their's my mortal frame, The same my way, my house the same. 3. Important journey! awful view!

How great the change! the scenes how new! The golden gates of heaven displayed, Or hell's fierce flames, and gloomy shade! 4. Awake, my soul, thy way prepare, And lose in this each mortal care : With steady feet that path be trod, Which, through the grave, conducts to God. 5. Jesus, to Thee my all I trust,

And, if thou call me down to dust,
I know thy voice, I bless thy hand,
And die in smiles at Thy command.
486 8.7. The Dying Christian encouraged. C. WESLEY.
HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below:

Go, by angel guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus, go!

2. Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above;
Shows the purchase of his merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.

3. Struggle through thy latest passion,
To thy dear Redeemer's breast,
To His uttermost salvation,

To his everlasting rest.

4. For the joy He sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die, to live the life of glory,
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.

487 C. M. Death of the Righteous. CowPER. O MOST delightful hour by man Experienced here below,

The hour that terminates his span,
His folly and his wo!

2. Worlds should not bribe me back to tread
Again life's dreary waste,

To see again my day o'erspread,
With all the gloomy past.

3. My home henceforth is in the skies-
Earth, seas, and sun, adieu!

All heaven unfolded to my eyes,
I have no sight for you.

4. So speaks the Christian, firm possest
Of faith's supporting rod;

Then breathes his soul into its rest,
The bosom of his God.

488

C. M. Burial of Believers.

WATTS.

HEARwhat the voice from heaven proclaims,
For all the pious dead;

Sweet is the savour of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

2. They die in Jesus, and are blest;
How kind their slumbers are!

From suffering and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.

3. Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;

The labours of a mortal life
End in a large reward,