On the Death of the Rev. Mr. John Meriton, August 10, 1753

And hath he bow'd his head,
And render'd up the ghost.
So quietly escaped, and fled
To that immortal host?
With them our songs we join,
And solemnly proclaim
The victory of love Divine,
The triumph of the Lamb.

The Lamb of God alone
Supplied His Spirit's might,
Through which our fellow-soldier won
The good though doubtful fight;
Through which the' afflicted man.
On sovereign mercy cast,
Rode out the storm of sin and pain,
And landed safe at last.
Long was he toss'd below
On life's tempestuous sea;
Bom to a double share of woe,
And weight of misery,
Tortured by cruel fears,
By flattering hopes deceived.
He wander'd through the vale of tears,
And rather died than lived.
The soul is now at rest,
The exile roams no more,
Of his inheritance possess'd
On that celestial shore:
A lot that cannot fade,
A life that cannot die,
An house by hands immortal made,
A mansion in the sky.
Jesus, take all the praise,
The praise is all Thy due;
And save iis by the word of grace,
And make us conquerors too:
The word Thy servant spoke.
And found its saving power,
Let us believe, obey — and look
For death's triumphant hour.
O that we then, like him,
Might quietly resign
The souls Thou suffer'dst to redeem,
Into those hands of Thine!
O that we then might prove,
Like him, the crowning grace,
And join our glittering friends above
In everlasting lays.