The billows rage without control,
When I am far from thee.
But tranquil is my evening rest,
When Jesus bears me on his breast,
There may I be.

3 The pity of thy gentle heart
I never asked in vain;

Then O remove this piercing dart,
And soothe my bosom's pain!
Then let the mighty billows play;
I'll sing my every care away,
Nor heed the storm!

THE chariot of mercy is speeding its way, Far, far through the shadowy gloom,

Where the lands that in death's dark obscurity lay,

Are bursting the bars of the tomb.

I see where 'tis shedding its luminous ray,
Dispersing the shadows of night;

And the wondering nations are hailing the day,
And rejoice in its glorious light.

2 Hallelujahs are sounding melodiously clear,
Borne sweet from the isles of the sea,
And the lands of the east send the echo afar,
And the long-fettered Pagan is free;

And the Indian, that roams through the greenprairied West,

Now raises his tear-moistened eye,

As he welcomes with joy the glad tidings of rest, In a home far away in the sky.

3 And the dark-visaged son of the African wild Kas tasted Immanuel's love,

And his lion-like nature grows tenderly mild,
As he hears the sweet news from above.
O chariot of mercy, roll gloriously on,
And fly over mountain and sea,

Till the last gloomy shadow of darkness is gone,
And the last fettered spirit is free!

297

8, 4.

LIKE a dream when one awaketh,

Vanished away,

Earthly joy the heart forsaketh,
Doomed to decay;

But when flesh and spirit faileth,
Heaven grows more dear;

And when grief the heart assaileth,
O shed no tear!

2 Dearest hopes and joys may perish,
Lost in an hour;

All the love the heart doth cherish
May lose its power,

When the storm is gathering o'er thee,
More pure and fair.

3 'Mid thy gloom and desolation,
Whene'er they come,

For thy peace and consolation,
Think of thy home.

There thy joys shall last for ever,
Changeless and bright;

Clouds shall dim, O' never, never,
That world of light.

HROUGH all the world below,
God is seen all around;

Search the hills and valleys through,
There he's found.
The growing of the corn,
The lily and the thorn,
The pleasant and forlorn,
All declare God is there;

In the meadows dressed in green,
There he's seen.

2 See springs of water rise,
Fountains flow, rivers run;
The mist below the skies
Hides the sun,

Then down the rain doth pour,
The ocean it doth roar,
And dash against the shore,
All to praise in their lays,
That God that ne'er declines
His designs.

3 The sun, to my surprise,
Speaks of God as he flies;
The comets, in their blaze,
Give him praise.

The shining of the stars,
The moon, as it appears,
His sacred name declares,
See them shine, all divine!
The shades in silence prove
God's above.

4 Then let my station be

Here on earth, as I see

The sacred One in Three
All agree:

Through all the world is made,
The forest and the glade.
Nor let me be afraid,

Though I dwell on the hill,
God is there.

299

10, 11, 11.

HILE beauty and youth are in their full

W prime,

And folly and fashion affect our whole time, O let not the phantom our wishes engage; Let us live so in youth that we blush not in age.

2 The vain and the young may attend us awhile, But let not their flatt'ry our prudence beguile; Let us covet those charms that ne'er shall decay,

Nor listen to all that deceivers may say.

3 I sigh not for beauty, nor languish for wealth, But grant me, kind Providence, virtue and health;

Then, richer than kings, and far happier than they,

My days shall pass swiftly and sweetly away.

4 For when age steals on me, and youth is no

more,

And the moralist, Time, shakes his glass at my door,

What pleasure in beauty or wealth can I find? My beauty, my wealth, is a sweet peace of mind.

5 That peace-I'll preserve it as pure as 'twas given

Shall last in my bosom an earnest of heaven; For virtue and wisdom can warm the cold

scene,

And sixty can flourish as gay as sixteen.

6 And when I the burden of life shall have borne,

And death, with his sickle, shall cut the ripe

corn,

Resign'd to my God, without murmur or sigh, I'll bless the kind summons, and lie down and die.

S there for pilgrims a region of rest,
Far, far away-far away?

A quiet repose for each pure, sainted breast,
Far, far away-far away?

Is there a land where the righteous shall reign, A home where the weary no more shall complain,

A respite from anguish, from grief, and from pain,

Far, far away-far away?

2 O yes, there's a heaven where all is serene, Far, far away-far away;

A country more lovely than eye yet hath seen, Far, far away-far away;

A city that knows not the shadows of night, With mansions of glory and endless delight, Where the parted by death shall for ever unite, Far, far away-far away.

3 There shall the ransomed eternally be,
Far, far away-far away;

And sorrow and sighing for ever shall flee
Far, far away-far away;

Then let me be one of that thrice happy band, Who there without shame and confusion shall stand,

And bask in the bliss of that heavenly land, Far, far away-far away.