A Collection of Hymns (1780)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1780 |
| Passage ID | cw-hymns-1780-346 |
| Words | 396 |
| Source | https://www.ccel.org/ccel/wesley/hymn.html |
4 Then let the worms demand their prey,
The greedy grave my reins consume ;
With joy I drop my mouldering clay,
And rest till my Redeemer come ;
On Christ my life, in death rely,
Secure that I can never die.
HYMN 719. Ts §• 6's.
r TVhy should it he thought a thing incredible with
you, that God should raise the dead?"
A /TAY not a creating God,
It A Who built this house of clay,
Re-inspire the breathless clod,
In his appointed day?
From the dust He form'd us man,
And shall we circumscribe his power?
Doubtless the Almighty can
Our moulder'd dust restore.
2 He who breathed into our earth
The breath of life divine,
By a new celestial birth
Can God and sinners join ;
650 Time, Death, and
Will a quickening Spirit become,
Our souls extinct again to raise,
CalPd out of our nature's tomb,
To live tbe life of grace.
3 Dead in sins and trespasses,
Jesus his people saves :
Lord, by faith we thee confess,
The op'ner of our graves ;
Joyfully the pledge receive.
Of blissful immortality,
Sure our bodies too shall live
For ever one with thee.
HYMN 720. c. m.
" And devout men carried Stephen to his burial.
1 \1I7*HY do we mourn departing friends,
* * Or shake at death's alarms ?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to his arms.
2 The graves of all his saints he bless'd,
And soften'd every bed :
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head?
.'> Thence he arose, ascending high,
And show'd our feet the way :
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising-day.
4 Then let the last loud trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise ;
Awake, ye nations under ground ;
Ye saints, ascend the skies.
HYMN 721. s. m.
Triumph over Death.
1 \ ND must this body die ?
-^* This well-wrought frame decay ?
the future State. 651
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mouldering in the clay ?
2 Corruption, earth, and worms
Shall but refine this flesh ;
Till my triumphant spirit comes
To put it on afresh.
3 God, my Redeemer, lives,
And ever from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,
Till he shall bid it rise.