44 lines
2.9 KiB
HTML
44 lines
2.9 KiB
HTML
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>WHY DO WE MOURN DEPARTING FRIENDS?</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“Weep not; she is not dead, but sleepeth.” Luke 8:52</h3></p>
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<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
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<p><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_w_a_watts_i.jpg" alt="Isaac Watts (1674-1748)" align="right" hspace="15" vspace="5" width="132.666666666667" height="184.666666666667"><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_w_a_watts_i.html" target="_blank">Isaac Watts</a>, <em>Hymns and Spiritual Songs</em>, 1707-1709.</p>
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<p><em>Music:</em> “Dundee,” Scottish Psalter, 1615 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_d_dundee.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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<ul>
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<li>“Manoah,” arranged from Giaochino Antonio Rossini in <em>Collection of Church Music</em>, by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_g_r_greatorex_hw.html" target="_blank">Henry W. Greatorex</a>, 1851 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_m_manoah.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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</ul>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>Why do we mourn departing friends,<br>
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Or shake at death’s alarms?<br>
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’Tis but the voice that Jesus sends<br>
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To call them to His arms.</p>
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<p>Are we not tending upward, too,<br>
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As fast as time can move?<br>
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Nor would we wish the hours more slow<br>
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To keep us from our love.</p>
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<p>Why should we tremble to convey<br>
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Their bodies to the tomb?<br>
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There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,<br>
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And left a long perfume.</p>
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<p>The graves of all His saints He blessed,<br>
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And softened every bed;<br>
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Where should the dying members rest,<br>
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But with the dying Head?</p>
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<p>Thence He arose, ascending high,<br>
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And showed our feet the way;<br>
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Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,<br>
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At the great rising day.</p>
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<p>Then let the last loud trumpet sound,<br>
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And bid our kindred rise;<br>
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Awake, ye nations under ground;<br>
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Ye saints, ascend the skies.</p>
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