Он, happy band of pilgrims,
If onward ye will tread
With Jesus as your fellow,
To Jesus as your head!
Oh, happy if ye labor
As Jesus did for men !
Oh, happy if ye ́hunger
As Jesus hunger'd then!
2 The cross that Jesus carried,
He carried as your due:
The crown that Jesus weareth,
He weareth it for you.
The faith by which ye see Him,
The hope in which ye yearn,
The love that through all troubles
To Him alone will turn;
3 The trials that beset you,
The sorrows ye endure,
The manifold temptations
That death alone can cure;
What are they but His jewels,
Of right celestial worth?
What are they but the ladder
Set up to heaven on earth?
4 O happy band of pilgrims,
Look upward to the skies,
Where such a light affliction
Shall win so great a prize!
To Father, Son, and Spirit,
The God whom we adore,
Be loftiest praises given,
Now and for evermore.
Joseph the Hymnographer. Tr. J. M. Neale.
Он, for a thousand tongues to sing
My dear Redeemer's praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!
2 My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread, through all the earth abroad,
The honors of Thy name.
3 Jesus! the name that charms our fears, That bids our sorrows cease;
'T is music in the sinner's ears;
'T is life, and health, and peace.
4 He breaks the power of reigning sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean;
His blood availed for me.
5 He speaks, and, listening to His voice, New life the dead receive;
The mournful, broken hearts rejoice;
The humble poor believe.
AWAKE, my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heav'nly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.
2 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey!
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.
3 'T is God's all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
'Tis His own hand presents the prize
To thine uplifted eye:
4 That prize with peerless glories bright, Which shall new lustre boast,
When victors' wreaths and monarchs'
Shall blend in common dust. [gems
5 Blest Saviour, introduced by Thee,
Have I my race begun;
And, crowned with victory, at Thy feet
I'll lay my honors down.
Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follower of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause,
Or blush to speak His Name?
2 Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?
3 Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?
4 Sure I must fight if I would reign:
Increase my courage, Lord;
I'll bear the cross, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.
5 Thy saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer, though they die;
They view the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.
6 When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thy armies shine
In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.
I'm not ashamed to own my Lord,
Or to defend His cause,
Maintain the honor of His word,
The glory of His cross.
2 Jesus, my God! I know His name;
His name is all my trust:
Nor will He put my soul to shame,
Nor let my hope be lost.
3 Firm as His throne His promise stands, And He can well secure,
What I've committed to His hands,
Till the decisive hour.
4 Then will He own my worthless name
Before His Father's face,
And in the New Jerusalem
Appoint my soul a place.
FORWARD! be our watchword,
Steps and voices joined;
Seek the things before us,
Not a look behind.
Burns the fiery pillar
At our army's head;
Who shall dream of shrinking,
By our Captain led?
Forward thro' the desert,
Thro' the toil and fight!
Jordan flows before us;
Zion beams with light.
2 Forward, when in childhood
Buds the infant mind;
All through youth and manhood,
Not a thought behind:
Speed through realms of nature,
Climb the steps of grace;
Faint not, till in glory
Gleams our Father's face.
Forward, all the life-time,
Climb from height to height,
Till the head be hoary,
Till the eve be light.
3 Forward, flock of Jesus,
Salt of all the earth,
Till each yearning purpose
Spring to glorious birth.
Sick, they ask for healing,
Blind, they grope for day;
Pour upon the nations
Wisdom's loving ray.
Forward, out of error,
Leave behind the night;
Forward, through the darkness
Forward, into light!
4 Glories upon glories
Hath our God prepared,
By the souls that love Him
One day to be shared :
Eye hath not beheld them,
Ear hath never heard;
Nor of these have uttered
Thought or speech a word.
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