Psalms 90:10
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[Psa 90:10] And Am I Only Born To Die?
And am I only born to die?
And must I suddenly comply
With nature’s stern decree?
What after death for me remains?
Celestial joys, or hellish pains,
To all eternity?How then ought I on earth to live,
While God prolongs the kind reprieve
And props the house of clay?
My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare
Against the fatal day.No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone:
If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The inexorable throne!No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment’s misery, or joy;
But O! when both shall end,
Where shall I find my destined place?
Shall I my everlasting days
With fiends, or angels spend?Nothing is worth a thought beneath
But how I may escape the death
That never, never dies;
How make mine own election sure,
And, when I fail on earth, secure
A mansion in the skies.Jesus, vouchsafe a pitying ray,
Be Thou my guide, be Thou my way
To glorious happiness;
Ah, write the pardon on my heart,
And whensoe’er I hence depart,
Let me depart in peace.Play source: Cyberhymnal -
[Psa 90:10] And Let This Feeble Body Fail
And let this feeble body fail,
And let it droop and die;
My soul shall quit the mournful vale,
And soar to worlds on high;
Shall join the disembodied saints,
And find its long sought rest,
That only bliss for which it pants,
In my Redeemer’s breast.In hope of that immortal crown
I now the cross sustain,
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain:
I suffer out my threescore years,
Till my Deliverer come,
And wipe away His servant’s tears,
And take His exile home.O what hath Jesus bought for me!
Before my ravished eyes
Rivers of life divine I see,
And trees of paradise:
I see a world of spirits bright,
Who taste the pleasures there;
They all are robed in spotless white,
And conquering palms they bear.O what are all my sufferings here,
If, Lord, Thou count me meet
With that enraptured host to appear,
And worship at Thy feet!
Give joy or grief, give ease or pain,
Take life or friends away,
But let me find them all again
In that eternal day.Play source: Cyberhymnal -
[Psa 90:10] All Men Living Are But Mortal
All men living are but mortal,
Yea, all flesh must fade as grass;
Only through death’s gloomy portal
To eternal life we pass.
This frail body here must perish
Ere the heav’nly love joys it cherish,
Ere it gain the free reward
For the ransomed of the Lord.Therefore, when my God doth choose it,
Willingly I’ll yield my life
Nor will grieve that I should lose it,
For with sorrows it was rife.
In my dear Redeemer’s merit
Peace hath found my troubled spirit,
And in death my comfort this:
Jesus’ death my source of bliss.Jesus for my sake descended
My salvation to obtain;
Death and hell for me are ended,
Peace and hope are now my gain;
Yea, with joy I leave earth’s sadness
For the home of heav’nly gladness,
Where I shall forever see
God, the Holy Trinity.There is joy beyond our telling,
Where so many saints have gone;
Thousands, thousands, there are dwelling,
Worshiping before the throne,
There the seraphim are shining,
Evermore in chorus joining:
“Holy, holy, holy Lord!
Triune God, for aye adored!”Patriarchs of sacred story
And the prophets there are found;
The apostles, too, in glory
On twelve seats are there enthroned,
All the saints that have ascended
Age on age, through time extended,
There in blissful concert sing
Hallelujahs to their King.O Jerusalem, how glorious
Dost thou shine, thou city fair!
Lo, I hear the tone victorious
Ever sweetly sounding there.
Oh, the bliss that there surprises!
Lo, the sun of morn now rises,
And the breaking day I see
That shall never end for me.Yea, I see what here was told me,
See that wondrous glory shine,
Feel the spotless robes enfold me,
Know a golden crown is mine,
Thus before the throne so glorious
Now I stand a soul victorious,
Gazing on that joy for aye
That shall never pass away.Play source: Cyberhymnal
Psalms 127:2
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[Psa 127:2] He Giveth His Beloved Sleep
Sorrow and care may meet,
The tempest cloud may low’r,
The surge of sin may beat
Upon earth’s troubled shore;
God doth His own in safety keep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep.The din of war may roll,
With all her raging flight,
Grief may oppress the soul,
Throughout the weary nigh;
God doth His own in safety keep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep.In childhood’s winsome page,
In manhood’s joyous bloom,
In feebleness and age,
In death’s dark gathering gloom,
God will His own in safety keep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep,
He giveth His belovèd sleep.Play source: Cyberhymnal -
[Psa 127:2] Joy And Light
Joy and light, joy and light,
Over the crystal sea;
Come, come, soft and bright,
Over the crystal sea.
Come on your snowy pinions white,
Come in the silent calm of night,
Watch when the pale stars keep,
Bring the troubled one,
Bring the weary one sleep.Love and rest, love and rest,
Carol in silver tone;
Glad songs, pure and blest,
Carol in silver tone.
Come from the fadeless flowers that grow,
Come from the sparkling streams that flow,
Come in the midnight deep,
Bring the troubled one,
Bring the weary one sleep.Voice divine, voice divine,
Speak, and our souls shall hear;
Sweet, sweet words are Thine,
Speak, and our souls shall hear.
Tell of a cloudless region fair,
Tell of the many mansions there,
Speak to the hearts that weep,
Bring the troubled one,
Bring the weary one sleep.Play source: Cyberhymnal -
[Psa 127:2] Of All The Thoughts Of God
Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward into souls afar,
Along the psalmist’s music deep,
Now tell me if there any is,
For gift or grace surpassing this:
“He giveth His belovèd sleep”?What would we give to our beloved?
The hero’s heart to be unmoved,
The poet’s star tuned harp, to sweep,
The patriot’s voice, to teach and rouse,
The monarch’s crown, to light the brows?
He giveth His belovèd sleep.“Sleep soft, belovèd!” we sometimes say,
Who have no tune to charm away
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep
But never doleful dream again
Shall break the happy slumber when
He giveth His belovèd sleep.His dews drop mutely on the hill,
His cloud above it saileth still,
Though on its slope men sow and reap;
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or cloud is floated overhead,
He giveth His belovèd sleep.Play source: Cyberhymnal