blb/hymns/hymns_html/htm_w_h_whydowem.html

44 lines
2.9 KiB
HTML

<html><head>
<script src="../../js/basepath.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script src="./js/nav.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script src="./js/MainHeader.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<title>BLB Hymns</title>
<h2>WHY DO WE MOURN DEPARTING FRIENDS?</h2>
<p align="center"><h3>&#8220;Weep not; she is not dead, but sleepeth.&#8221; Luke 8:52</h3></p>
<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>
<hr>
<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>
<p><em>Music:</em> &#8220;Dundee,&#8221; 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>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</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>
<ul>
<li>&#8220;Manoah,&#8221; 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>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</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>
</ul>
<hr>
<div class="lyrics">
<p>Why do we mourn departing friends,<br>
Or shake at death&#8217;s alarms?<br>
&#8217;Tis but the voice that Jesus sends<br>
To call them to His arms.</p>
<p>Are we not tending upward, too,<br>
As fast as time can move?<br>
Nor would we wish the hours more slow<br>
To keep us from our love.</p>
<p>Why should we tremble to convey<br>
Their bodies to the tomb?<br>
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,<br>
And left a long perfume.</p>
<p>The graves of all His saints He blessed,<br>
And softened every bed;<br>
Where should the dying members rest,<br>
But with the dying Head?</p>
<p>Thence He arose, ascending high,<br>
And showed our feet the way;<br>
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,<br>
At the great rising day.</p>
<p>Then let the last loud trumpet sound,<br>
And bid our kindred rise;<br>
Awake, ye nations under ground;<br>
Ye saints, ascend the skies.</p>
</div>
<hr>
<script src="./js/MainFooter.js" type="text/javascript"></script>