« AnteriorContinuar »
3 Fulfilling there his high commands,
Our cheerful feet shall move ;
Or cool our burning love.
The wonders of his grace,
Home in Heaven.
1 MY Father's house on high!
Home of my soul ! how near,
Thy golden gates appear !
At noon and midnight hour,
Seraphic music pour.
To reach the land I love, -
My glorious home above. 583.
BARBAULD. The Pilgrimage of Life. 1 OUR country is Immanuel's ground;
We seek that promised soil :
While strangers here we toil.
And oft are bathed in tears;
And naught but sin our fears.
We bear the cross he bore ;
His temples pierced before.
In ecstasies of love;
5 We purge our mortal dross away,
Refining as we run;
Our heaven is here begun. 584. L. M. 6 L. CHRISTIAN PSALMIST.
Foretaste of Heaven.
At God's right hand, where Jesus reigns,
O’erwhelms us on these earthly plains !
What bliss it is with Christ to reign.
When sorrow pains our hearts no more,
And all his works of grace explore !
Will there through endless ages shine ! 3 This is the heaven I long to know;
For this, with patience, I would wait,
I mount to my celestial seat,
And, with the elders, cast them down. 585.
T. MOORE. Heaven desired. 1 THE dove let loose in eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,
Where idle warblers roam;
Above all low delay,
Nor shadow dims her way.
Of sinful passion free,
To urge my course to thee; 4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs,
8 & 78. M. 6 L.
Close of the Christian Warfare.
When we reach the farther shore,
We shall see our foes no more :
Followed by eternal peace.
O, how sweet the prospect is !
Let us not repine at this :
All endear repose at last.
When we touch the heavenly shore,
Can alarm or trouble more :
We shall dwell in sweet repose.
'T is his people's blest reward ;
They at length behold their Lord :
Watts. The Christian's Prospect. 1 WHAT sinners value I resign;
Lord, 't is enough that thou art mine;
And stand complete in righteousness.
But that bright world to which Í go
When shall I wake, and find me there? 3 O, glorious hour! 0, blest abode !
I shall be near and like my God,
4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound,
And in my Saviour's image rise. 588.
C. M. CHRISTIAN PSALMIST.
The Society of Heaven,
Name ever dear to me!
In joy, and peace, and thee!
And pearly gates behold?
Ảnd streets of shining gold.
Nor sin nor sorrow know :
I onward press to you.
Or feel at death dismay?
And realms of endless day.
Around my Saviour stand;
Will join the glorious band. 6 Jerusalem! my glorious home!
My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.
And death's dark shade arrives at last,-
'T is glory opening to the blest.
And Christ shall there receive them in ;
3 There parted hearts again shall meet
In union holy, calm, and sweet ;
Shall sorrow call them to deplore.
With spirits bright and blest as theirs,
From suns that never more go down. 5 For there the God of mercy sheds
His purest influence on their heads,
WATTS. A Prospect of Heaven. 1 THERE is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
And pleasures banish pain.
And never-withering flowers :
This heavenly land from ours.
Stand dressed in living green :
And Jordan rolled between.
To cross this narrow sea;
And fear to launch away.
Those gloomy doubts that rise,
With unbeclouded eyes, -
And view the landscape o'er,