2 Their names are graven on the stone, Their bones are in the clay; And ere another day is done, Ourselves may be as they. 3 Our eyes have seen the rosy light Of youth's soft cheek decay, And fate descend in sudden night On manhood's middle day. 4 Our eyes have seen the steps of age Halt feebly towards the tomb; And yet shall earth our hearts engage, And dreams of days to come? 5 Death rides on every passing breeze, He lurks in every flower; Each season has its own disease, Its peril every hour. 532. L. M. J. Taylor. The Shortness of Life. 1 Like shadows gliding o'er the plain, Or clouds that roll successive on, Man's busy generations pass, And while we gaze their forms are gone. 2 "He lived,--he died;" behold the sum, The abstract of the historian's page! Alike, in God's all-seeing eye, The infant's day, the patriarch's age. 3 O Father! in whose mighty hand The boundless years and ages lie; Teach us thy boon of life to prize, And use the moments as they fly; 4 To crowd the narrow span of life With wise designs and virtuous deeds; And bid us wake from death's dark night, To share the glory that succeeds. 533. C. M. Collyer. Prayer for Support in Death. 1 When, bending o'er the brink of life, My trembling soul shall stand, And wait to pass death's awful flood, Great God, at thy command;-- 2 Thou Source of life and joy supreme, Whose arm alone can save, Dispel the darkness that surrounds The entrance to the grave. 3 Lay thy supporting, gentle hand Beneath my sinking head, And let a beam of light divine Illume my dying bed. 534. L. M. Watts. 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 through death's iron gate, Nor feel the terrors as she past. 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. 535. L. M. Anonymous. Deliverance from the Fear of Death. 1 O God of love! with cheering ray, Gild our expiring hour of day; Thy love, through each revolving year, Has wiped away affliction's tear. 2 Free us from death's terrific gloom, And all the fear which shrouds the tomb; Heighten our joys, support our head, Before we sink among the dead.