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Oh, that the blest ones, who in it have

share, All that they feel could as fully declare !

3 Truly Jerusalem name we that shore,

Vision of peace, that brings joy evermore ; Wish and fulfilment can severed be ne'er, Nor the thing prayed for come short of

the prayer.

4 There, where no troubles distraction can

bring, We the sweet anthems of Zion shall sing ; While for Thy grace, Lord, their voices of

praise Thy blessèd people eternally raise.

5 There dawns no Sabbath, no Sabbath is

o'er, Those Sabbath-keepers have one evermore; One and unending is that triumph-song

Which to the angels and us shall belong. 6 Now, in the meanwhile, with hearts raised

on high, We for that country must yearn and must

sigh ; Seeking Jerusalem, dear native land,

Through our long exile on Babylon's strand. 7 Low before Him with our praises we fall, Of Whom, and in Whom, and through

Whom are all; Of Whom, the Father ; and in Whom, the

Son ; Through Whom, the Spirit, with Them ever One.

P. Abelard, 12th Cent. Tr. J. M. Neale.

801

4s, 6s. 81. SLEEP thy last sleep,

Free from care and sorrow;
Rest, where none weep,

Till th' eternal morrow;
Though dark waves roll

O'er the silent river,
Thy fainting soul

Jesus can deliver.

2 Life's dream is past,

All its sin and sadness ;
Brightly at last

Dawns a day of gladness :
Under the sod,

Earth, receive our treasure,
To rest in God,

Waiting all His pleasure.
3 Though we may mourn

Those in life the dearest,
They shall return,

Christ, when thou appearest :
Soon shall Thy voice

Comfort those now weeping,
Bidding rejoice
All in Jesus sleeping.

E. A. Dayman.

802

L. M. ASLEEP in Jesus ! blessèd sleep, From which none ever wakes to weep; A calm and undisturbed repose,

Unbroken by the last of foes.
2 Asleep in Jesus ! oh, how sweet

To be for such a slumber meet ;
With holy confidence to sing
That death hath lost its venomed sting.

3 Asleep in Jesus ! peaceful rest,

Whose waking is supremely blest ;
No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour

That manifests the Saviour's power. 4 Asleep in Jesus ! oh, for me

May such a blissful refuge be;
Securely shall my ashes lie,

Waiting the summons from on high, 5 Asleep in Jesus ! far from thee

Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
But thine is still a blessèd sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.

Mrs. M. Mackay. 803

7,7,4. LET no tears to-day be shed; Holy is this narrow bed.

Alleluia! 2 Not salvation hardly won, Not the meed of race well run :

Alleluia ! 3 But the pity of the Lord Gives His child a full reward ;

Alleluia !

4 Grants the prize without the course ; Crowns, without the battle's force.

Alleluia !

5 God, who loveth innocence,
Hastes to take His darling hence,

Alleluia !
6 Christ, when this sad life is done,
Join us to Thy little one.

Alleluia !

7 And in Thine own tender love, Bring us to the ranks above.

Alleluia !

Anon. Paris Missal. Tr. R. F. Littledale. 804

S. M.
It is not death to die ;

To leave this weary road,
And 'midst the brotherhood on high

To be at home with God. 2 It is not death to close

The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose

To spend eternal years. 3 It is not death to bear

The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air

Of boundless liberty. 4 It is not death to fling

Aside this sinful dust,
And rise, on strong exulting wing,

To live among the just. 5 Jesus, Thou Prince of life!

Thy chosen cannot die ;
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with Thee on high.

H. A. C. Malan. Tr. G. W. Bethune. 805

7,8,7,8,7,7. GENTLE Shepherd, Thou hast stilled

Now Thy little lamb's brief weeping ; Ah, how peaceful, pale, and mild,

In its narrow bed 't is sleeping, And no sigh of anguish sore Heaves that little bosom more.

2 In this world of care and pain,

Lord, Thou wouldst no longer leave it ; To the sunny, heavenly plain

Dost Thou now with joy receive it ; Clothed in robes of spotless white, Now it dwells with Thee in light.

3 Ah, Lord Jesus, grant that we

Where it lives may soon be living, And the lovely pastures see

That its heavenly food are giving : Then the pain of death we prove Though Thou take what most we love.

J. W. Meinhold. Tr. C. Winkworth.

806

7,7,7,7,8,8. NOW THE laborer's task is o'er ;

Now the battle-day is past ;
Now upon the farther shore

Lands the voyager at last.
Father, in Thy gracious keeping

Leave we now Thy servant sleeping. 2 There the tears of earth are dried ;

There its hidden things are clear ;
There the work of life is tried

By a juster Judge than here.
Father, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

3 There the sinful souls, that turn

To the cross their dying eyes,
All the love of Christ shall learn

At His feet in Paradise.
Father, in Thy gracious keeping
Leave we now Thy servant sleeping.

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