Christian Songs, Song LIX

Hail glorious times of joy and peace, When we'll be safe from ev'ry grief; And this, our bosom foe shall cease, This evil heart of unbelief.

2 Then safe from every dreaded ill, Death never more shall break our rest; Nor any breast with terror fill, Forever in God's presence blest!

3 And is the blessedness our choice Which Jesus with his blood hath bought? Do we in him alone rejoice Who all our works for us hath wrought?

4 Why then of death so much afraid? The gate of heav'n—our wish'd for home! When he seems near, why shrink dismay'd? Why not with pleasure bid him come?

5 And do we, after all, then prize This motley scene of grief and care? Is heav'n so little in our eyes, We would not die tho' to be there?

6 When we survey the grizly form; Does nature shudder at the sight? The pallid look;—the shroud;—the worm; And darkness of perpetual night!

7 The silent tongue,—the fixed eye,— The clay-cold hand,—our long, long home!— Are we afraid lest we should lie Eternal tenants of the tomb?

8 Fear not: our great Redeemer lives, And he from death shall set us free! Tho' now we die, if we are his, These very eyes the Lord shall see.

9 Dread we in death to lay us down! Know Jesus in the grave was laid; He made it easy for his own, When he their ransom fully paid!

10 Are we afraid of racking pain? O! think what pains our Saviour bore; He bore our griefs and sorrows all When nails and thorns his body tore!

11 Or do we dread yet more to find God's awful wrath upon us fall? Here's comfort to the guilty mind: Our great Redeemer bore it all!

12 He bore th' Almighty's frown, that we Might never feel the wrath divine, Behold him bleeding on the tree! See Justice there, and Mercy shine!

13 "My God, my God, why hast thou me "Forsaken," The bless'd suff'rer cry'd! But, none of his forsake will he (In death) who for their ransom dy'd.

14 God now well-pleas'd for Jesus' sake, Smiles on his people's parting hour: Hence they of lively hope partake, Tho' worms their body shall devour.

15 He ever liveth, who was dead: Of death he keeps the keys alone; He'll say (when from the grave they're freed) "Of those thou gav'st me I've lost none!"

16 And when he brings them back again, From worms and death a glorious prize; They shall appear without a stain, All lovely ev'n in God's own eyes!