HEAVEN.

Hymn.

Freedom from Sin and Misery.

1 OUR sins, alas! how strong they be! And, like a violent sea,

They break our duty, LORD, to Thee,
And hurry us away.

2 The waves of trouble how they rise!
How loud the tempests roar!
But death shall land our weary souls
Safe on the heav'nly shore.

3 There to fulfil His sweet commands
Our speedy feet shall move :
No sin shall clog our winged zeal,
Or cool our burning love.

4 There shall we sit, and sing, and tell The wonders of His grace,

Till heav'nly raptures fire our hearts,
And smile in ev'ry face.

5 For ever His dear sacred Name

Shall dwell upon our tongue,

And JESUS and salvation be
The close of ev'ry song.

Hymn.

Glory of Christ in Heaven.

1 O THE delights, the heav'nly joys,
The glories of the place,
Where JESUS sheds the brightest beams
Of His o'erflowing grace!

2 Sweet majesty and awful love
Sit smiling on His brow,

And all the glorious ranks above
At humble distance bow.

3 This is the Man, th' exalted Man,
Whom we unseen adore;

But when our eyes behold His face,
Our hearts shall love Him more.

4 LORD, how our souls are all on fire
To see Thy bless'd abode,

Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise
To our incarnate GOD!

5 And while our faith enjoys this sight,
We long to leave our clay;
And wish Thy fiery chariots, LORD,
To fetch our souls away.

Hymn.

Sight of the Saints in Heaven.

1 WHO are these array'd in white, Brighter than the noon-day sun, Foremost of the sons of light,

Nearest the eternal throne?

2 These are they that bore the cross,
Nobly for their Master stood;
Suff'rers in His righteous cause;
Foll❜wers of the dying GOD.

3 Out of great distress they came; Wash'd their robes by faith below, In the blood of yonder LAMB,

Blood that washes white as snow:

4 Therefore are they next the throne, Serve their Maker day and night: GOD resides among His own,

GOD doth in His saints delight.

5 More than conquerors at last,
Here they find their trials o'er;
They have all their suff'rings past,
Hunger now and thirst no more.

6 No excessive heat they feel
From the sun's directer ray;
In a milder clime they dwell,
Region of eternal day.

7 He that on the throne doth reign,
Them the LAMB shall always feed;
With the tree of life sustain ;
To the living fountains lead.

8 He shall all their sorrows chase,

All their wants at once remove;
Wipe the tears from ev'ry face;
Fill up ev'ry soul with love.

Hymn.

Hope of Heaven our Support under Trials.

1 WHEN I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to ev'ry fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.

2 Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurl'd,
Then I can smile at Satan's rage,
And face a frowning world.

3 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall,
May I but safely reach my home,
My GOD, my heav'n, my all!

4 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav'nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my troubled breast.

Hymn.

Prospect of Heaven makes Death easy.

1 THERE is a land of pure delight
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flow'rs;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heav'nly land from ours.

3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dress'd in living green;
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.

4 But tim'rous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea,
And linger shiv'ring on the brink,
And fear to launch away.

5 O could we make our doubts remove!
Those gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes!

6 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,

1

Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.

Hymn.

The City out of Sight.

WE'VE no abiding city here:'

This may distress the worldling's mind; But should not cost the saint a tear, Who hopes a better rest to find.

2 'We've no abiding city here :'

Sad truth were this to be our home:
But let the thought our spirits cheer,
'We seek a city yet to come.'

3 'We've no abiding city here:'
Then let us live as pilgrims do;
Let not the world our rest appear,
But let us haste from all below.