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320 The Book of Praise.
Be Thou our comfort, mighty God !
Our Helper and our Friend ! Nor leave us, in this dangerous road,
Till all our trials end !
O may our feet pursue the way
Our pious fathers led ; With love and holy zeal obey
The counsels of the dead !
Let us be wean'd from all below;
Let hope our grief expel; While death invites our souls to go
Where our best kindred dwell.
Isaac Watts. 1709.
CCCIV.
Now let our mourning hearts revive,
And all our tears be dry; Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief,
Which view a Saviour nigh ?
What though the arm of conquering death Does God's own house invade ?
What though the prophet and the priest Be number'd with the dead ?
Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged and the young ; The watchful eye in darkness closed,
And mute th' instructive tongue:
Th' Eternal Shepherd still survives.
New comfort to impart; His eye still guides us, and His voice
Still animates our heart. |
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