No forms of earth our fancies to
arrange,-

But to begin alone that mighty change!
2 Alone! to land alone upon that shore! 2
Knowing so well we can return no more;
No voice or face of friend,
None with us to attend

Our disembarking on that awful strand-
But to arrive alone in such a land!

3 Alone? no! God hath been there long|
before,

Eternally hath waited on that shore
For us who were to come

To our eternal home:

O is He not the life-long Friend we know

More privately than any friend below?

4 Alone? the God we trust is on that shore, The Faithful One whom we have trusted more

In trials and in woes

Than we have trusted those

On whom we leaned most in our earthly

910

ᎪᎢ

F. W. FABER.*

8s.

T evening time-when day is done,
Life's little day is near its close,
And all the glare and heat are gone,
And gentle dews foretell repose;
To crown my faith before the night,
At evening time let there be light!

2 At evening time-when labour's past;-
Though storms and toils have marred
my day,

Mercy has tempered every blast,
And love and hope have cheered the
way:

Now let the parting hour be bright,
At evening time let there be light!

3 God doth send light at evening time,
And bid the fears, the doubtings flee;
I trust His promises sublime!
His glory now is risen on me!
His full salvation is in sight,-
At evening time, there now is light.

Where all those heaven-bound sunsets go,

Ever from toil to rest.

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death!
Thither where sorrows cease,
To a new life, to an old past,
Softly and silently we haste,
Into a land of peace.

3 How pleasant are thy paths, O Death!
E'en children after play

4

Lie down, without the least aların,
And sleep, in thy maternal arm,
Their little life away.

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death!
The old, the very old

Smile when their slumbrous eye grows

dim,

Smile when they feel thee touch each limb;

Their age was not less cold.

5 How pleasant are thy paths, O Death!
Straight to our Father's home;
All loss were gain that gained us this,-
The sight of God, that single bliss
Of the grand world to come

I'M

F. W. FABER.

'M kneeling at the threshold,
A-weary, faint, and sore;
I'm waiting for the dawning,
For the opening of the door;
I'm waiting till the Master

Shall bid me rise and come
To the glory of His presence,
The gladness of His home

2 A weary path I've travelled,
'Mid darkness, storm, and strife,
Many a burden bearing,
Contending for my life;
But now the morn is breaking;
My toil will soon be o'er,
I'm kneeling at the threshold,
My hand is on the door.

3 Methinks I hear the voices
Of the blessèd as they stand,
Sweet singing in the sunshine
Of that unclouded land:
O would that I were with them,
Amid the shining throng,
Uniting in their worship,
Rejoicing in their song!

4 The friends that started with me
Have entered long ago,
Ah! one by one they left me,
To struggle with the foe;
Their pilgrimage was shorter,
Their triumph sooner won;
How lovingly they'll hail me,
When once my work is done!

7.6.

My Wavin not having seen I adore,

Thy name is exalted above

All glory, dominion, and power.

2 Ere long shall the veil be removed,

5 The great unending future,

I cannot pierce its shroud;
Yet nothing doubt, nor tremble,
God's bow is on the cloud.

6 To Him I yield my spirit;
On Him I lay my load:"
Fear ends with death; beyond it
I nothing see but GOD.

7 Thus moving toward the darkness
I calmly wait His call,
Now seeing, fearing-nothing;
But hoping, trusting-all!

916

S. GREG.

And round me Thy brightness be poured; THE sands of time are sinking,

I shall meet Him whom absent I loved,
I shall see Whom unseen I adored.
3 And then never more shall the fears,
The trials, temptations, and woes,
Which darken this valley of tears,
Intrude on my blissful repose.

4 Or, if yet remembered above,
Remembrance no sadness shall raise;
They'll be but new signs of Thy love,
New themes for my wonder and praise.

5 The stroke which from sin and from

pain

Shall set me eternally free,

Will strengthen and rivet the chain,

7.6.

The dawn of heaven breaks,
The summer morn I've sighed for,
The fair sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

2 The King there, in His beauty,
Without a veil is seen;

It were a well-spent journey,

Though seven deaths lay between:
The Lamb, with His fair army,
Doth on Mount Zion stand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

Which binds me, my Saviour, to Thee. 3 O Christ, He is the Fountain,

914

COWPER.

8.8.8.6.

SAVIOUR! I have naught to plead,
In earth beneath, or heaven above;
But just my own exceeding need,
And Thy exceeding love.

2 The need will soon be past and gone,
Exceeding great-but quickly o'er;
The love unbought is all Thine own,
And lasts for evermore.

915

J. CREWDSON.

SLOWLY, slowly darkening,

The evening hours roll on;
And soon behind the cloud-land
Will sink my setting sun.

2 Around my path life's mysteries
Their deepening shadows throw;
And as I gaze and ponder,

3

They dark and darker grow.

The deep, sweet well of love!
The streams on earth I've tasted,
More deep I'll drink above:
There, to an ocean fulness,

His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

4 I've wrestled on toward heaven,
'Gainst storm and wind and tide;
Now, like a weary traveller

That leaneth on his guide,

Amid the shades of evening,

While sinks life's lingering sand,
I hail the glory dawning
From Immanuel's land.

7.6. 5 With mercy and with judgment,

But there's a voice above me
Which says, Wait, trust, and pray;
The night will soon be over,

And light will come with day.'

4 Father! the light and darkness
Are both alike to Thee;
Then to Thy waiting servant,
Alike they both shall be.

My web of time He wove;
And aye the dews of sorrow

Were lustred with His love:
I'll bless the hand that guided,
I'll bless the heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

6 O! I am my Beloved's,

And my Belovèd's mine!
He brings a poor vile sinner
Into His 'house of wine';
I stand upon His merit,
I know no other stand,
Not e'en where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

7 The bride eyes not her garment,
But her dear bridegroom's face;

'We would see Jesus:'-other lights are CONCLUDING HYMN TO CHRIST. paling,

INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

HYMN

ABIDE with me, fast falls the eventide 693 Begone, unbelief; my Saviour is near 334
According to Thy gracious word
A few more years shall roll.
Again, as evening's shadow falls
Again the Lord of life and light
Ah! whither should I go.