646

The bright and morning star. Rev. xxii. 16.

646-649

Star of the promised morning, rise!
Star of the throbbing wave,
Ascend! and o'er the sable brine,
With resurrection splendor shine,
Burst thro' the clouds with beams divine,
Mighty to shine and save.

O Morning Star! O risen Lord!
Destroyer of the tomb!
Star of the living and the dead,
Lift up at length thy long-veiled head,
O'er land and sea thy glories shed;

Light of the morning, come!

Into each tomb thy radiance pour;
Let life, not death, prevail;
Make haste, great Conqueror, make haste!
Call up the dead of ages past!
Gather thy precious gems at last
From ocean's deepest vale.

Speak, Mighty Life, and wake the dead;
Like statue from the stone,
Like music from long broken strings,
Like gushings from deserted springs,
Like dew upon the dawn's soft wings;
Rouse each beloved one.

647

66

Depart," O sinner! word of woe!
Thy day of hope is done;
Light shall revisit thee no more,
Life with its sanguine dreams is o'er,
Love reaches not yon awful shore;
Forever sets thy sun.

Thy songs are at an end; thy harp
Shall solace thee no more;
All mirth has perished on thy grave;
The melody that could not save
Has died upon death's sullen wave,
That flung thee on this shore.

No God is there; no Christ; for He
Whose word on earth was 66 Come,"
Hath said "Depart:" go, lost one, go,
Reap the sad harvest thou didst sow,
Join yon lost angels in their woe,
Go share their fiery doom.

Horatius Bonar, ab. 1808.

Heb. xi. 13.

Cheerful, O Lord, at thy command,

I bind my sandals on;

I take my pilgrim's staff in hand,
:And go to seek the better land, :|
The way thy feet have gone.
I oft shall think, when on my way
Some bitter grief I meet;
This path hath echoed with His moan,
:And every rude and flinty stone :||
Hath bruised His blessed feet.

Fainting and sad along the road,

Thou layest on my head
The hands they fastened to the tree,
|: The hands that paid the price for me, :||
The hands that broke the bread.

Thou whisperest some pleasant word,
I catch the much loved tone;
I feel thee near, my gracious Lord,
: I know thou keepest watch and ward, :[
And all my grief is gone.

From every mountain's rugged peak,
The far-off land I know;

And from its fields of fadeless bloom
: Come breezes laden with perfume, :|
And fan my weary brow.

There peaceful hills and holy vales
Sleep in eternal day;
While rivers deep and silent glide
: 'Twixt meads and groves on either side, :||
Through which the blessed stray.
There He abides who is of heaven,
The loveliest and the best;
His face, when shall I gaze upon?
: Or share with the beloved John:]
The pillow of his breast?

Unknown, cir. 1850?

650-651

Perryville.

Oh, not But by

Arr. H., 1879. 2

Oh, the blood of Jesus!

The precious blood of Jesus;
Oh, the blood of Jesus!

That cleanseth from all sin.

All we like sheep have gone astray,
In sin's destructive road;
Our sins on him the Lord did lay,
He bore our bitter load.
Beside the spotless Lamb I stand,
The Lamb to slaughter led;
Confessing guilt I lay my hand
Upon his sinless head.

My load of sin he meekly bears,

He sheds for me his blood;

For me he pours his tears and prayers, To bring me home to God.

Before the throne in garments bright
I see the ransomed throng;

Oh, that in blood-washed raiment white
I too may join their song!

Praise Him who washed us in his blood; The Lamb for sinners slain

Hath made us kings and priests to God, With him on earth to reign.

H., 1879.

C. M.

A nearness to my God! Then would my hours glide swift away While leaning on his word.

Lord, I desire with Thee to live

Anew from day to day,

In joys the world can never give,
Nor ever take away.

Blest Jesus, come, and rule my heart,
And make me wholly thine,
That I may never more depart,
Nor grieve thy love divine.

Benjamin Cleveland, ab. 1790.

There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see

That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stam'ring tongue
Is ransomed from the grave.
William Cowper, ab. 1779.

C. M.

Loud doth the gospel trumpet sound,
Proclaiming liberty

To captive souls by Satan bound;
This is the jubilee.

How sweetly do the tidings roll

All round from sea to sea,

From land to land, from pole to pole; This is the jubilee.

Good news, good news to Adam's race;
Let Christians all agree

To sing redeeming love and grace;
This is the jubilee.

The gospel sounds a sweet release
To all in misery,

And bids them welcome home to peace;
This is the jubilee.

Jesus in on the mercy-seat,

Before him bend the knee;
Let heaven and earth his praise repeat;
This is the jubilee.

Sinners, be wise, return and come;
Unto the Saviour Hee;

The Spirit bids you welcome home;
This is the jubilee.

Come, ye redeemed, your tribute bring
With songs of harmony;

While on the road to Canaan sing,

This is the jubilee.

Josiah Goddard's Collection, ab. 1801.

654
O Lord, thy servants cry to thee,
Sore troubled and dismayed;
Thy answer comes across the sea,
"Tis I; be not afraid."

With joyful hearts we take thee in,
So shall the tempest cease,
And we, beyond the storms of sin,
Shall reach the port of peace.

Amid the surges wild and dark,

Thy power the vessel keeps; No billow can o'erwhelm the bark In which our Master sleeps.

Casting all your care upon him.
1 Pet. v. 7.

Lord, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve thee is my share,
And this thy grace must give.

If life be long, I will be glad

That I may long obey;

If short, yet why should I be sad To end this weary day?

C. M.

Christ leads me thro' no darker rooms
Than he went through before;
No one into his kingdom comes,

But through his opened door.

Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet,
Thy blessed face to see;

For if thy work on earth be sweet,
What will thy glory be!

Then shall I end my sad complaints,
And weary, sinful days,
And join with all triumphant saints
Who sing Jehovah's praise.

My knowledge of that life is small;
The eye of faith is dim;
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with him.
Richard Baxter, 1681.

656 The gates of hell shall not prevail.
Matt. xvi. 18.
The Church is built upon a rock:
Though hell's dark gates assail,
Unmoved it bears their furious shock,
They never shall prevail.

Monarchs and kings and men of might,
Have hastened to the fray;
But still the Church stands clothed with light,
Her foes, oh, where are they?
The crumbling empires now are gone,
The monarchs sleep in dust;
But still the Church of Christ lives on,
And makes the Lord her trust.
Above the waves that dash and roar,
Above the tossing foam,
She stands a beacon on time's shore,
To guide lost wanderers home.
While angry tumults vex the air

With clamors fierce and strong, Within her sounds the voice of prayer And swells the tide of song.

The Church is built upon the rock,
Eternally secure;

And thro' the storm or earthquake's shock,
In peace it shall endure.

Lord, grant that I, a living stone,

Within that Church may dwell, No hand from thence shall pull me down, I dread no gates of hell.

Refrain thy voice from weeping. Jer. xxxi. 16.

H., 1881.

C. M.

657
Refrain thy voice, oh, weeping one,
Refrain thine eyes from tears;
There yet is hope when thou art done
With all earth's griefs and fears.
Thy cherished ones, now captive led,
For whom thy heart doth mourn;
Shall hear that voice which wakes the dead,
And from the grave return.
Oh, not in vain thy toil and care,
Thy travail and thy tears;
For joys immortal thou shalt share
Through glad, eternal years.
Thy work shall have a rich reward,
When home the captives come;
And in the presence of the Lord,
Abide, no more to roam.

H., 1883.

The paradise of God. Rev. ii. 7.

656-660

C. M.

O Paradise, thy banished bloom
Fades from our sight away;
When shall once more thy glory come,
In everlasting day?

O Paradise, thou home of rest!

We long thy joys to share, When all the victors, crown'd and blest, Shall dwell in glory there.

Beyond this desert world of sin,"

There flows life's crystal flood;
There shall we eat life's fruit within
The Paradise of God!

O Paradise, thou heavenly home!
Thy joys I sigh to see;

When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,
O Lord, remember me.

Isa. xxxv. 10.

H., 1883.

659 The ransomed of the Lord shall return.
C. M.
The desert like the rose shall bloom,
With flowers of paradise;
When saints triumphant from the tomb,
In life immortal rise.

The lame shall leap, the dumb shall sing,
The blind, with sight restored,
Shall see the beauty of their King,
The glory of their Lord.
With joy the ransomed shall return,
And hail that blissful day,
While all the griefs of those who mourn
Forever flee away.

H., 1888.