Hymn 1:46. [Supplement.]
The privileges of the living above the dead.
1 Awake, my zeal, awake, my love,
To serve my Saviour here below,
In works which perfect saints above
And holy angels cannot do.
2 Awake my charity, to feed
The hungry soul, and clothe the poor:
In heaven are found no sons of need,
There all these duties are no more.
3 Subdue thy passions, O my soul!
Maintain the fight, thy work pursue,
Daily thy rising sins control,
And be thy victories ever new.
4 The land of triumph lies on high,
There are no foes t' encounter there:
Lord, I would conquer till I die,
And finish all the glorious war.
5 Let every flying hour confess
I gain thy gospel fresh renown;
And when my life and labour cease,
May I possess the promis'd crown.
Hymn 1:47. [Supplement.]
Death of kindred improved.
1 Must friends and kindred drop and die?
And helpers be withdrawn?
While sorrow with a weeping eye
Counts up our comforts gone?
2 Be thou our comfort, mighty God!
Our helper and our friend:
Nor leave us in this dangerous road,
Till all our trials end.
3 O may our feet pursue the way
Our pious fathers led!
With love and holy zeal obey
The counsels of the dead.
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