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HYMN 132. C.M.
Funeral Consolations. (cont.)
1 |
HEAR what the voice from heav'n declares
To those in Christ who die!
"Releas'd from all their earthly cares,
"They reign with him on high."
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2 |
Then, why lament departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms!
Death's but the servant Jesus sends
To call us to his arms.
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3 |
If sin be pardon'd, we're secure,
Death has no sting beside:
The law gave sin its strength and pow'r;
But Christ, our ransom, died!
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4 |
The graves of all his saints he bless'd,
When in the grave he lay;
And rising thence, their hopes he rais'd
To everlasting day!
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5 |
Then joyfully, while life we have,
To Christ, our life, we'll sing;
"Where is thy victory, O grave!
"And where, O death, thy sting!"
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HYMN 133. 88 L.M.
The life of faith.
1 |
THE moment a sinner believes,
And trusts in his crucified Lord,
His pardon at once lie receives,
Redemption in full thro' his blood.
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2 |
The Christian is dead, yet he lives,
His life is with Christ, hid in God,
This life now, from Christ he derives,
And he lives by faith In his Lord.
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3 |
Tho' thousands and thousands of foes
Against him in malice unite,
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PAGE 445
HYMN 133. 88 L.M.
The life of faith. (cont.)
3 |
Their rage he thro' Christ can oppose,
Led forth by the spirit to fight.
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4 |
The faith, that unites to the Lamb,
And brings such salvation as this,
Is more than mere fancy or name;
The work of God's Spirit it is.
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5 |
It says to the mountains "depart,"
That stand betwixt God and the soul;
It binds up the broken in heart,
The wounded in conscience makes whole.
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6 |
Christ lives by his Spirit in them,
Whose hearts are renewed by grace;
And they, by their faith, live in him,
A life of pure joy, love, and peace.
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HYMN 134. C.M.
The Walk of Faith.
1 |
O FOR a closer walk with God,
A calm and heav'nly frame;
And light to shine upon the road,
That leads me to the Lamb!
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2 |
Where is the blessedness I knew,
When first I sought the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and his word?
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3 |
What peaceful hours I then enjoy'd!
How sweet their mem'ry still!
But now I find an aching void,
The world can never fill.
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4 |
Return, O holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest!
I hate the sins, that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.
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5 |
The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,
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