8 [The men of grace have found
Glory begun below,
Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope may grow.]

9 The hill of Sion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.

10 Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;
We’re marching thro’ Immanuel’s ground
To fairer worlds on high.

Hymn 2:31. 
Christ’s presence makes death easy.

1 Why should we start and fear to die? 
What timorous worms we mortals are! 
Death is the gate of endless joy,
And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,
Fright our approaching souls away;
Still we shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 O, if my Lord would come and meet, My soul should stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless thro’ death’s iron gate, Nor feel the terrors as she pass’d.

4 Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on his breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.

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 pass our lives away.

3 God 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 hell
That slight the joys above! 
What chains of vengeance should we feel
That break such cords of love!

5 Draw us, O God, 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-shining 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!]