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4 And whilst upon my restless bed, Amongst the shades I roll,

If my Redeemer shows his head, "Tis morning with my soul.]

5 To thee we owe our wealth and friends,
And health, and safe abode;
Thanks to thy name for meaner things,
But they are not my God.

6 How vain a toy is glittering wealth,
If once compared to thee!
Or what's my safety, or my health,
Or all my friends to me?

7 Were I possessor of the earth,
And call'd the stars my own,
Without thy graces, and thyself,
I were a wretch undone.

8 Let others stretch their arms like seas, And grasp in all the shore; Grant me the visits of thy face, And I desire no more.

129. S. M. Watts.

God all, and in all. Psalm lxxii. 25

God, life, love,

To thee; to thee, I call,

I cannot live if thou remove,
For thou art All in All.

2 The smilings of thy face,
How amiable they are!
'Tis heaven to rest in thine embrace,
And no where else but there.

3 Not all the harps above

Can make a heavenly place If God his residence remove, Or but conceal his face:

4 Nor earth, nor all the sky,
Can one delight afford,
No, not a drop of real joy,
Without thy presence, Lord.

5 Thou art the sea of love,
Where all my pleasures roll,
The circle where my passions move,
And centre of my soul.

6 To thee my spirits fly
With infinite desire,-
And yet how far from thee I lie!
Dear Jesus, raise me higher!

130. C. M. Steele.

The Christian's prospect.

HAPPY the soul whose wishes climb

To mansions in the skies!

He looks on all the joys of time,
With undesiring eyes.

2 In vain soft pleasure spreads her charms, And throws her silken chain;

And wealth, and fame, invite his arms, And tempt his ears in vain.

3 To things unseen by mortal eyes,
A beam of sacred light
Directs his view, his prospects rise
All permanent and bright.

4 His hopes are fixt on joys to come;
Those blissful scenes on high
Shall flourish in immortal bloom,
When time and nature die.

50 were those heavenly prospects mine, Those pleasures could I prove, Earth's fleeting joys I would resign, And raise my hopes above.

131. L. M. Steele.

The worship of Heaven. John xvii.


FOR a sweet, inspiring ray, To animate our feeble strains, From the bright realms of endless day, The blissful realms where Jesus reigns!

2 There, low, before his glorious throne,
Adoring saints and angels fall;

And, with delightful worship, own
His smile their bliss, their heaven their all.
3 Immortal glories crown his head;
While tuneful hallelujahs rise,
And love, and joy, and triumph spread
Through all th' assemblies of the skies.
4 He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs
To boundless rapture, while they gaze;
Ten thousand thousand joyful tongues
Resound his everlasting praise.

5 There all the favourites of the Lamb
Shall join at last the heavenly choir;
O may the joy-inspiring theme,
Awake our faith, and warm desire!
6 Dear Saviour! let thy Spirit seal
Our interest in that blissful place!
Till death remove this mortal veil,
And we behold thy lovely face.

132. C. M. Watts.

The saints glorified. Rev. vii. 13, &c.

THESE glorious minds, how bright they shine


'How came they to the happy seats 'Of everlasting day?'


2 From torturing pains to endless joys, On fiery wheels they rode,

And strangely wash'd their raiment white
In Jesus' dying blood.

3 Now they approach a spotless God, And bow before his throne;

Their warbling harps, and sacred songs,
Adore the Holy One.

4 The unveil'd glories of his face,
Amongst his saints reside,
While the rich treasure of his grace
Sees all their wants supplied.

5 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls,
And hunger flee as fast;

The fruit of life's immortal tree
Shall be their sweet repast.

6 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock,
Where living fountains rise,
And love divine shall wipe away
All sorrows from their eyes.

133. C. M.


Heaven invisible and holy. 1 Cor. ii. 9, 10


URE are the joys above the sky,
And all the region peace,
No wanton lips, nor envious eye
Can see, or taste the bliss.

2 Those holy gates for ever bar
Pollution, sin and shame ;
None shall obtain admittance there
But followers of the Lamb.

3 He keeps the Father's book of life,
There all their names are found,
The hypocrite in vain shall strive
To tread the heavenly ground.

134. C. M. Watts.

The beatific sight of Christ.

FROM thee, my God, my joys shall rise

And run

Beyond the limits of the skies,
And all created bounds.

2 The holy triumphs of my soul, Shall death itself outbrave, Leave dull mortality behind,

And fly beyond the grave.

3 There, where my blessed Jesus reigns,
In heaven's unmeasur'd space,
I'll spend a long eternity
In pleasure, and in praise.

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4 Millions of years my wondering eyes
Shall o'er thy beauties rove,
And endless ages I'll adore
The glories of thy love.

5 Sweet Jesus! every smile of thine
Shall fresh endearments bring;
And thousand tastes of new delight
From all thy graces spring.

6 Haste, my beloved, fetch my soul
Up to thy bless'd abode,
Fly, for my spirit longs to see
My Saviour and my God.

135. L. M. Rippon's Selection. The Christian rising to God. OW let our souls, on wings sublime,

Draw back the parting veil, and see
The glories of eternity.

2 Born by a new celestial birth,
Why should we grovel here on earth?
Why grasp at transitory toys,
So near to heaven's eternal joys?

3 Shall aught beguile us on the road,
When we are walking back to God?
For, strangers into life we come,
And dying is but going home.

4 Welcome, sweet hour of full discharge, That sets our longing souls at large, Unbinds our chains, breaks up our cell, And gives us with our God to dwell.

5 To dwell with God, to feel his love,
Is the full heaven enjoy'd above;
And the sweet expectation now,
Is the young dawn of heaven below.

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