University of Virginia Library

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. L---, JULY 6, 1756.

HYMN XXVIII.

[PART I.]

[Ah! lovely Christlike soul, adieu!]

Ah! lovely Christlike soul, adieu!
Darling of every heart that knew
Thy short-lived excellence!
Rest in the bosom of thy God,
Who just to gazing mortals show'd,
And snatch'd the wonder hence.
Unworthy of her longer stay,
Forbid to plead, forbid to pray,
We mournfully resign
Our friend, so suddenly removed;
We render to her Best-beloved
The heavenly loan Divine.

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But need we now our grief conceal,
Forced in the tenderest nerve to feel
The universal loss?
We cannot curb our swelling sighs,
Or stop the fountains of our eyes,
Remembering what she was.
She was (let all her worth confess,
Let all her precious memory bless,
And after her aspire!)
A burning and a shining light;
She was—to gild our land of night,
And set our world on fire.
She was (what words can never paint)
A spotless soul, a sinless saint,
In perfect love renew'd,
A mirror of the Deity,
A transcript of the One in Three,
A temple fill'd with God.
The witness of His hallowing grace,
Talk'd with her Maker face to face,
And mark'd with His new name,
His nature visibly express'd,
While all her even life confess'd
The meekness of the Lamb.
Bless'd with His lowly, loving mind,
One with the Friend of human kind,
In all His steps she trod;
In doing good, and bearing ill,
Fulfill'd her heavenly Father's will,
And lived and died to God.

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Eager to drink His deepest cup,
She fill'd her Lord's afflictions up,
Together crucified;
To nature's will entirely dead,
She languish'd till she bow'd her head,
And with her Saviour died.
Like Him, her thirty years and three
She finish'd on the sacred tree,
In sacrificial prayer,
Calmly without a lingering sigh
Dismiss'd her spirit to the sky,
And clasps her Jesus there!

HYMN XXIX.

PART II.

[O that the child of heavenly light]

O that the child of heavenly light
Might drop her mantle in her flight,
Her lamblike spirit leave;
On us let all her graces rest,
To meeken every troubled breast,
And teach us how to grieve!
Happy, could we the secret find,
Like her in all events resign'd
To gain by every loss;
Our sharpest agonies to' improve,
Esteem our Master's lot, and love
And glory in His cross!
Master, on us, even us bestow
Like precious faith Thyself to know;
Fulfil our heart's desire,

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Daily in all her steps to tread,
And let us in the garden bleed,
And on the mount expire.
Like her, who now supremely bless'd,
Enjoys an everlasting rest,
We fain on earth would be
As harmless as that gentlest dove,
As simplified by humble love,
As perfectly like Thee.
O were it, Lord, on us bestow'd,
The love that in her bosom glow'd,
The love invincible,
The love that turns the other cheek,
The love inviolably meek,
That bears and conquers all!
Made ready here by patient love
For sweetest fellowship above
With our translated friend,
Give us through life her spirit to breathe,
Indulge us then to die her death,
And bless us with her end.