3 Death, with thy weapons of war lay me low, Strike, king of terrors! I fear not the blow; Jesus hath broken the bars of the tomb! Joyfully, joyfully, will I go home. Bright will the morn of eternity dawn; Death shall be banished, his scepter be gone; Joyfully, then, shall I witness his doom, Joyfully, joyfully, safely at home. 794 P. M. Behold the fowls of the air. Matt. 6:26. The child leans on its parent’s breast, Leaves there its cares, and is at rest; The bird sits singing by his nest, And tells aloud His trust in God, and so is blest ’Neath every cloud. 2 He has no store, he sows no seed; Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed; By flowing stream or grassy mead, He sings to shame Men, who forget, in fear of need, A Father’s name. 3 The heart that trusts for ever sings, And feels as light as it had wings; A well of peace within it springs: Come good or ill, Whate’er to-day, to-morrow brings, It is his will! 795 C. P. M. Matthew 14:28, 29. He bids us come; his voice we know, And boldly on the waters go, To him our Christ and Lord; We walk on life’s tempestuous sea, For he who died to set us free Hath called us by his word. 2 Secure from troubled waves we tread, Nor all the storms around us heed, While to our Lord we look; O’er every fierce temptation bound— The billows yield a solid ground, The wave is firm as rock. 3 But if from him we turn our eye, And see the raging floods run high, And feel our fears within; Our foes so strong, our flesh so frail, Reason and unbelief prevail, And sink us into sin. 4 Lord, we our feeble faith confess; That little spark of faith increase, That we may doubt no more; But fix on thee our steady eye, And on thine outstretched arm rely, Till all the storm is o’er. 796 P. M. Rest, weary heart. Rest, weary heart, From all thy silent griefs, and secret pain, Thy profitless regrets, and longings vain; Wisdom and love have ordered all the past, All shall be blessedness and light at last; Cast off the cares that have so long opprest; Rest, sweetly rest! 2 Rest, weary head! Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb; Light from above has broken through its gloom; Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, Where he shall wake thee on a future day, Like a tired child upon its mother’s breast, Rest, sweetly rest!