1009
C. M.
The sorrows of death compassed me.
Psalm 116:3.
My God, thy service well demands
The remnant of my days:
Why was this fleeting breath renewed,
But to renew thy praise?
2 Thine arms of everlasting love
Did this weak frame sustain;
When life was hovering o’er the grave,
And nature sunk with pain.
3 Thou, when the pains of death were felt,
Didst chase the fears of hell,
And teach my pale and quivering lips
Thy matchless grace to tell.
4 Calmly I bowed my fainting head
On thy dear, faithful breast;
Pleased to obey my Father’s call
To his eternal rest.
5 Into thy hands, my Saviour God,
Did I my soul resign,
In firm dependence on that truth
Which made salvation mine.
6 Back from the borders of the grave,
At thy command I come,
Nor will I urge a speedier flight
To my celestial home.
Doddridge.