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There is a house not made with hands

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #721 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 There is a house not made with hands, Eternal and on high; And here my spirit waiting stands, Till God shall bid it fly. 2 Shortly this prison of my clay Must be dissolv'd and fall, Then, O my soul, with joy obey Thy heavenly Father's call. 3 'Tis he, by his almighty grace, That forms thee fit for heaven, And as an earnest of the place, Has his own Spirit given. 4 We walk by faith of joys to come, Faith lives upon his word; But while the body is our home We're absent from the Lord. 5 'Tis pleasant to believe thy grace, But we had rather see; We would be absent from the flesh, And present, Lord, with thee. Topics: Death Death of the pious; Death and immediate Glory Scripture: 2 Corinthians 4:8

Hark! from on high a solemn voice

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #722 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Hark! from on high a solemn voice; Let all attentive hear! 'Twill make each pious heart rejoice, And vanquish ev'ry fear. 2 "Thrice blessed are the pious dead, Who in the Lord shall die; Their weary flesh, as on a bed, Safe in the grave shall lie. Their holy souls, at length releas'd, To heav'n shall take their flight; There to enjoy eternal rest, And infinite delight. 4 They drop each load as they ascend, And quit this world of wo; Their labours with their life shall end, Their rest no period know. 5 Their conflicts with their busy foes For evermore shall cease; None shall their happiness oppose, Nor interrupt their peace. 6 But bright rewards shall recompense Their faithful service here; And perfect love shall banish thence Each gloomy doubt and fear." Topics: Blessed are they that die in the Lord; Death Death of the pious

The grave is now a favour'd spot

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #723 (1828) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 The grave is now a favour'd spot,-- To saints who sleep, in Jesus bless'd; For there the wicked trouble not, And there the weary are at rest. 2 At rest in Jesus' faithful arms; At rest as in a peaceful bed; Secure from all the dreadful storms, Which round this sinful world are spread. 3 Thrice happy souls, who're gone before To that inheritance divine! They labour, sorrow, sigh no more, But bright in endless glory shine. 4 Then let our mournful tears be dry, Or in a gentle measure flow; We hail them happy in the sky, And joyful wait our call to go. Topics: Death Death of the pious; The Grave Scripture: Job 3:17

What scenes of horror and of dread

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #724 (1828) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 What scenes of horror and of dread Await the sinner's dying bed! Death's terrors all appear in sight, Presages of eternal night. 2 His sins in dreadful order rise, And fill his soul with sad surprise; Mount Sinai's thunder shuns his ears, And not one ray of hope appears. 3 Tormenting pangs distract his breast; Where'er he turns he finds no rest; Death strikes the blow; he groans and cries, And, in despair and horror, dies. 4 Not so the heir of heavenly bliss:-- His soul is fill'd with conscious peace; A steady faith subdues his fear! He sees the happy Canaan near. 5 His mind is tranquil and serene; No terrors in his looks are seen; His Saviour's smile dispels the gloom, And smooths his passage to the tomb. 6 Lord! make my faith and love sincere, My judgment sound, my conscience clear: And, when the toils of life are past, May I be found in peace at last. Topics: Death Death of the wicked; The Death of the Sinner and the Saint

Death! 'tis a melancholy day

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #725 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Death! 'tis a melancholy day To those who have no God, When the poor soul is forc'd away, To seek her last abode. 2 In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes; But guilt, a heavy chain, Still drags her downward from the skies To darkness, fire, and pain. 3 Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell, Let stubborn sinners fear; You must be driv'n from earth, and dwell A long for ever there. 4 See how the pit gapes wide for you, And flashes in your face! And thou, my soul, look downward too, And sing recovering grace. 5 He is a God of sovereign love, That promis'd heaven to me, And taught my thoughts to soar above, Where happy spirits be. 6 Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand, Then come the joyful day, Come, death, and some celestial band, To bear my soul away. Topics: Death Death of the wicked; Death dreadful or delightful

My thoughts on awful subjects roll

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #726 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 My thoughts on awful subjects roll, Damnation and the dead; What horrors seize the guilty soul Upon a dying bed! 2 Lingering about these mortal shores She makes a long delay, Till like a flood, with rapid force, Death sweeps the wretch away. 3 Then swift and dreadful she descends Down to the fiery coast, Amongst abominable fiends, Herself a frightful ghost. 4 There endless crowds of sinners lie, And darkness makes their chains; Tortur'd with keen despair they cry, Yet wait for fiercer pains. 5 Not all their anguish and their blood For their old guilt atones; Nor the compassion of a God Shall hearken to their groans. 6 Amazing grace, that kept my breath, Nor bid my soul remove, Till I had learn'd my Saviour's death, And well insur'd his love! Topics: Death Death of the wicked; The Death of a Sinner

No, I'll repine at death no more

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #727 (1828) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 No, I'll repine at death no more; But, calm and cheerful, will resign To the cold dungeon of the grave, These dying, with'ring limbs of mine. 2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to dust; My God shall raise my frame anew At the revival of the just. 3 Break, sacred morning! through the skies, And usher in that glorious day: Come quickly, Lord! cut short the hours: Thy ling'ring wheels, how long they stay! 4 Haste, then, upon the wings of love, Rouse all the pious sleeping clay, That we may join in heav'nly joys, And sing the triumph of the day. Topics: Resurrection

What sinners value, I resign

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #728 (1828) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 What sinners value, I resign: Lord! 'tis enough that thou art mine! I shall behold thy blissful face, And stand complete in righteousness. 2 This life's a dream, an empty show; But the bright world, to which I go, Hath joys substantial and sincere: When shall I wake and find me there! 3 O glorious hour! O blest abode! I shall be near and like my God; And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul. 4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground, Till the last trumpet's joyful sound; Then burst the chains with sweet surprise, And in my Saviour's image rise. Topics: Resurrection

Through sorrow's night and danger's path

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #729 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Through sorrow's night and danger's path, Amid the deepening gloom, We soldiers of an injur'd King Are marching to the tomb. 2 There, when the turmoil is no more, And all our powers decay, Our cold remains in solitude Shall sleep the years away. 3 Our labours done, securely laid In this our last retreat, Unheeded o'er our silent dust The storms of life shall beat. 4 Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane, The vital spark shall lie, For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise To seek its kindred sky. 5 These ashes too, this little dust, Our Father's care shall keep, Till the last angel rise, and break The long and dreary sleep. 6 Then love's soft dew o'er every eye Shall shed its mildest rays, And the long silent dust shall burst With shouts of endless praise. Topics: Hope in the Resurrection; Resurrection

How long shall death, the tyrant, reign

Hymnal: HSAO1828 #730 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 How long shall death, the tyrant, reign, And triumph o'er the just, While the rich blood of martyrs slain Lies mingled with the dust? 2 Lo! I behold the scatter'd shades! The dawn of heav'n appears: The sweet, immortal morning spreads Its blushes round the spheres, 3 I hear the voice! "ye dead, arise;" And lo! the graves obey; And waking saints with joyful eyes Salute th'expected day. 4 They leave the dust, and on the wing Rise to the mid-way air; In shining garments meet their King, And bow before him there. 5 O may our humble spirit stand Among them cloth'd in white! The meanest place at his right hand Is infinite delight. Topics: Resurrection; The resurrection of the just