Hymn 2:31. Christ's presence makes death easy. 1 Why should we start and fear to die? What timorous worms we mortals are! Death is the gate of endless joy, And yet we dread to enter there. 2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife, Fright our approaching souls away; Still we shrink back again to life, Fond of our prison and our clay. 3 O, if my Lord would come and meet, My soul should stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless thro' death's iron gate, Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd. 4 Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out sweetly there. Hymn 2:32. Frailty and Folly. 1 How short and hasty is our life! How vast our souls' affairs! Yet senseless mortals vainly strive To lavish out their years. 2 Our days run thoughtlessly along, Without a moment's stay; Just like a story or a song We pass our lives away. 3 God from on high invites us home, But we march heedless on, And ever hastening to the tomb, Stoop downwards as we run. 4 How we deserve the deepest hell That slight the joys above! What chains of vengeance should we feel That break such cords of love! 5 Draw us, O God, with sovereign grace, And lift our thoughts on high, That we may end this mortal race And see salvation nigh. Hymn 2:33. The blessed society in heaven. 1 Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run Thro' every heavenly street, And say, there's nought below the sun That's worthy of thy feet. 2 [Thus will we mount on sacred wings, And tread the courts above; Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things Shall tempt our meanest love.] 3 There on a high majestic throne Th' Almighty Father reigns, And sheds his glorious goodness down On all the blissful plains. 4 Bright like a sun the Saviour sits, And spreads eternal noon, No evenings there, nor gloomy nights, To want the feeble moon. 5 Amidst those ever-shining skies Behold the sacred Dove, While banish'd sin and sorrow flies From all the realms of love. 6 The glorious tenants of the place Stand bending round the throne; And saints and seraphs sing and praise The infinite Three One. 7 [But O what beams of heavenly grace Transport them all the while! Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, And love in every smile!] 8 [Jesus, and when shall that dear day, That joyful hour appear, When I shall leave this house of clay To dwell amongst them there?] Hymn 2:34. Breathing after the Holy Spirit; or, Fervency of devotion desired. 1 Come, holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers, Kindle a flame of sacred love, In these cold hearts of ours. 2 Look, how we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys; Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys. 3 In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies. 4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie At this poor dying rate? Our love so faint, so cold to thee, And thine to us so great?