Obrazy na stronie

30 when, thou City of my God,

Shall I thy courts ascend,
Where congregations ne'er break up,

And Sabbaths have no end ? 4 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,

Nor sin nor sorrow know ; Blest seats, through rude and stormy scenes

I onward press to you.
5 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there

Around my Saviour stand ;
And soon my friends in Christ below

Will join the glorious band. 6 Jerusalem, my happy home,

My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end

When I thy joys shall see. Arion. (ascribed to J. Montgomery), Eckington Coll.

(based on F. B. P." in MSS. of 16th or 17th Cent.). 795

O. M. 81. O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem !

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end ?

Thy joys when shall I see?
O happy harbor of God's saints !

O sweet and pleasant soil !
In thee no sorrow may be found,

No grief, no care, no toil.
2 No murky cloud o'ershadows thee,

Nor gloom, nor darksome night; But every soul shines as the sun;

For God Himself gives light.
O my sweet home, Jerusalem,

Thy joys when shall I see?
The King that sitteth on thy throne

In His felicity ?

3 Thy gardens and thy goodly walks

Continually are green, Where grow such sweet and pleasant

As nowhere else are seen. [flowers
Right through thy streets, with silver sound,

The living waters flow,
And on the banks, on either side,

The trees of life do grow.
4 Those trees for evermore bear fruit,

And evermore do spring :
There evermore the angels are,

And evermore do sing.
Jerusalem, my happy home,

Would God I were in thee !
Would God my woes were at an end,
Thy joys that I might see !

D. Dickson. (Founded on F. B. P." MSS. 16th or 17th Cent.) 796

8,6,8,8,6. THERE is an hour of peaceful rest,

To mourning wand'rers giv'n;
There is a joy for souls distressed,
A balm for ev'ry wounded breast,

'T is found above, in heav'n.
2 There is a home for weary souls

By sin and sorrow driven ;
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,

And all is drear but heaven.

3 There, faith lifts up her cheerful eye,

To brighter prospects given;
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,

And all serene in heaven.

4 There, fragrant flowers, immortal bloom,

And joys supreme are given ;
There, rays divine disperse the gloom :
Beyond the confines of the tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven.

W. B. Tappan. 797

C. M. THERE is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain. 2 Bright fields beyond the swelling flood

Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

While Jordan rolled between.
3 But timorous mortals start and shrink

To cross this narrow sea ;
And linger, trembling on the brink,

And fear to launch away. ,
4 O could we make our doubts remove,

Those gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love,

With faith's illumined eyes : 5 Could we but climb where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.

1. Watts. 798

7,6,7,6,8,6,8,6. In exile here we wander,

In heaven is our abode,-
The city of the angels,

The city of our God.

And here we toil, and strive, and fight,

With sin and woe opprest ;
There God will give the sons of light

Eternal joy and rest.
2 Through many sore temptations,

By many sorrows torn,
We strive to win the glory ;

Our many falls we mourn.
But faith holds out the vision bright

Of our eternal home ;
And hope assures that realm of light,

When we have overcome. 3 Jesus, our joy and gladness,

To Thee for aid we fee ;
Give tears of true contrition ;

Our souls from guilt set free :-
And we shall rise in that great day

In bodies like to Thine,
And with Thy saints, in bright array,

Shall in Thy glory shine.
4 There we, as children dwelling,

Who here as exiles groan,
God's praises shall be telling

Before His glorious throne ;
There in our endless home shall rest

From strife and sorrow free,
And join the anthem of the blest
For ever, Lord, to Thee.

W. Cooke.


88,7s. 61. Light's abode, celestial Salem,

Vision whence true peace doth spring, Brighter than the heart can fancy,

Mansion of the highest King ; Oh, how glorious are the praises

Which of thee the prophets sing !

2 There forever and forever

Alleluia is outpoured ;
For unending, for unbroken,

Is the feast-day of the Lord ;
All is pure and all is holy

That within thy walls is stored. 3 There no cloud nor passing vapor

Dims the brightness of the air ; Endless noon-day, glorious noon-day,

From the Sun of suns is there ; There no night brings rest from labor,

For unknown are toil and care. 4 Oh, how glorious and resplendent,

Fragile body, shalt thou be,
When endued with so much beauty,

Full of health, and strong, and free,
Full of vigor, full of pleasure

That shall last eternally! 5 Now with gladness, now with courage,

Bear the burden on thee laid,
That hereafter these thy labors

May with endless gifts be paid,
And in everlasting glory
Thou with brightness be arrayed.

Anon. (Latin, 15th Cent.) Tr. J. M. Neale.


10s. Oh, what the joy and the glory must be, Those endless Sabbaths the blessed ones

see !

Crown for the valiant, to weary ones rest;

God shall be all, and in all ever blest. 2 What are the Monarch, His court, and His

throne ? What are the peace and the joy that they


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