Part 30 (1/2)

Hymn 2:32.

Frailty and Folly.

1 How short and hasty is our life!

How vast our souls' affairs!

Yet senseless mortals vainly strive To lavish out their years.

2 Our days run thoughtlessly along, Without a moment's stay; Just like a story or a song We pa.s.s our lives away.

3 G.o.d from on high invites us home, But we march heedless on, And ever hastening to the tomb, Stoop downwards as we run.

4 How we deserve the deepest h.e.l.l That slight the joys above!

What chains of vengeance should we feel That break such cords of love!

5 Draw us, O G.o.d, with sovereign grace, And lift our thoughts on high, That we may end this mortal race And see salvation nigh.

Hymn 2:33.

The blessed society in heaven.

1 Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run Thro' every heavenly street, And say, there's nought below the sun That's worthy of thy feet.

2 [Thus will we mount on sacred wings, And tread the courts above; Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things Shall tempt our meanest love.]

3 There on a high majestic throne Th' Almighty Father reigns, And sheds his glorious goodness down On all the blissful plains.

4 Bright like a sun the Saviour sits, And spreads eternal noon, No evenings there, nor gloomy nights, To want the feeble moon.

5 Amidst those ever-s.h.i.+ning skies Behold the sacred Dove, While banish'd sin and sorrow flies From all the realms of love.

6 The glorious tenants of the place Stand bending round the throne; And saints and seraphs sing and praise The infinite Three One.

7 [But O what beams of heavenly grace Transport them all the while!

Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, And love in every smile!]

8 [Jesus, and when shall that dear day, That joyful hour appear, When I shall leave this house of clay To dwell amongst them there?]

Hymn 2:34.

Breathing after the Holy Spirit; or, Fervency of devotion desired.

1 Come, holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers, Kindle a flame of sacred love, In these cold hearts of ours.

2 Look, how we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys; Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys.

3 In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.

4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie At this poor dying rate?