4 Dear Lord, if indeed I am thine, 140 Where winter and clouds are no more. 11, 8. THOU, in whose presence On whom, in affliction, I call- And my song in the night, 2 Where dost thou, at noon-tide, To feed on the pastures of love? Of death should I weep, Or alone in the wilderness rove? 8 O, why should I wander An alien from thee, And cry in the desert for bread? When my sorrows they see, 4 Ye daughters of Zion, Declare, have you seen The star that on Israel shone? Say if in your tents My Beloved has been, And where with his flocks is he gone? 5 This is my Beloved: His vestments shed odors around; Are as grapes on the vine, When autumn with plenty is crown'd. 6 His voice, as the sound Of the dulcimer sweet, Is heard through the shadow of death. Bow at his feet The air is perfumed with his breath. 7 His lips as a fountain Of righteousness flow, That waters the garden of grace, The Gentiles shall know, And bask in the smiles of his face. 8 He looks, and ten thousand Of angels rejoice, And myriads wait for his word. Re-echoes the praise of the Lord. HEN I can read my title clear I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes. 2 Should earth against my soul engage, And fiery darts be hurled, Then I can smile at Satan's rage, 8 Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, 4 There I can bathe my weary soul And not a wave of trouble roll E And shall I waste my ebbing sand? And careless view departing day, 2 Be this my chief, my only care- My pardon seal'd, and peace with God. 3 But should my brightest hopes be vain, 4 Search, Lord-O search my inmost heart! 143 C. M. YE weary, heavy-laden souls, Who are oppressed and sore, Ye trav'lers through the wilderness, And waters deep and cold, And enemies surrounding you, Take courage and be bold. 2 We're often like the lonesome dove, But Canaan's land is just before, A few more beating winds and rains, 8 O what a glorious sight appears A city in the skies! O that my faith were strong to raise, I'd shout salvation to the Lamb, Soon will set life's sinking sun; EE, Christian, see, how time steals on, Like to the gleams of closing day, Then up, let us toil till our toilings are o'er, Our final summons having come, How sweet the Christian's welcome home! Home, home, home, the Christian's welcome home! Sweet, O sweet, the Christian's welcome home! Welcome home! welcome home: 2 Shout, brethren, shout! as you onward move To your home prepared above; Soon 'twill appear, and O, how bright! Then up, &c. 3 The prospect brightens while we sing All hail, our blessed home above! Then up, &c. 4 See how the shades of death come nigh- Then up, fellow Christian, let mourning be o’er, How sweet the Christian's welcome home! &c. 145 A L. M. PILGRIM and a stranger here, Roll on, roll on, sweet moments, roll on, And let the poor pilgrims go home, go home. 2 Fair lands are here, and houses fair, When death shall come, my soul shall fly, 3 What though I weep awhile below, |