483 Arlington.  C.M.

Baptism of Children. (948)

Our children, Lord, in faith and prayer
  We now devote to thee;
Let them thy covenant mercies share,
  And thy salvation see.

2 In early days their hearts secure
  From worldly snares, we pray;
And let them to the end endure
  In every righteous way.

3 Grant us before them, Lord, to live
  In holy faith and fear;
And then to heaven our souls receive
  And bring our children there.

484 Thanatopsis.  S.M.

Dying, not Death. (1088)

It is not death to die,—­
  To leave this weary road,
And, midst the brotherhood on high,
  To be at home with God.

2 It is not death to close
  The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose
  To spend eternal years.

3 It is not death to fling
  Aside this sinful dust,
And rise, on strong exulting wing,
  To live among the just.

4 Jesus, thou Prince of life! 
  Thy chosen cannot die;
Like thee, they conquer in the strife,
  To reign with thee on high.

     George W. Bethune, 1847.

485 Thanatopsis.  S.M.

The Crowning Hour. (1086)

Servant of God, well done! 
  Thy glorious warfare’s past;
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
  And thou art crowned at last;—­

2 Of all thy heart’s desire
  Triumphantly possessed;
Lodged by the ministerial choir
  In thy Redeemer’s breast.

3 In condescending love,
  Thy ceaseless prayer he heard,
And bade thee suddenly remove
  To thy complete reward.

4 With saints enthroned on high,
  Thou dost thy Lord proclaim,
And still to God salvation cry,—­
  Salvation to the Lamb!

     Charles Wesley.

486 Thanatopsis.  S.M.

A Little While. (1089)

A few more years shall roll,
  A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those that rest
  Asleep within the tomb.

2 A few more suns shall set
  O’er these dark hills of time,
And we shall be where suns are not,
  A far serener clime.

3 A few more storms shall beat
  On this wild rocky shore,
And we shall be where tempests cease,
  And surges swell no more.

4 A few more struggles here,
  A few more partings o’er,
A few more toils, a few more tears,
  And we shall weep no more.

5 ’Tis but a little while
  And he shall come again,
Who died that we might live, who lives
  That we with him may reign.

6 Then, O my Lord, prepare
  My soul for that great day;
Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,
  And take my sins away.

     Horatius Bonar, 1856.

487 St. Sylvester. 8s & 7s.

Death Inevitable.