4 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest,

And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.

10

C. M.

Love to Christ.

1 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds, In a believer's ear!

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

2 It makes the wounded spirit whole,

And calms the troubled breast;

"Tis manna to the hungry soul,

And to the weary rest.

3 Dear name, the Rock on which I build, My shield and hiding-place;

My never-failing treasury, filled

With boundless stores of grace!

4 Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
My Prophet, Priest, and King;
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.

5 Weak is the effort of my heart,

And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see thee as thou art,
I'll praise thee as I ought.

6 Till then I would thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath;
And may the music of thy name
Refresh my soul in death.

11

7 s and 6 s.

Aspiring after Heaven.

1 RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,

Thy better portion trace;

Rise from transitory things,

Towards heaven thy native place:

Sun and moon and stars decay;

Time shall soon this earth remove:

Rise, my soul, and haste away,

To seats prepared above.

2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun;
Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God,

Pants to view his glorious face,
Upward tends to his abode,

To rest in his embrace.

3 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn;
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Saviour will return,
Triumphant in the skies.
Yet a season, and you know,

Happy entrance will be given;

All our sorrows left below,

And earth exchanged for heaven.

12

C. M.

The New Jerusalem.

1 JERUSALEM, my happy home,

Name ever dear to me!

When shall my labours have an end,
In joy and peace and thee?

2 When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And pearly gates behold?

Thy bulwarks, with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold?

3 0! when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend,

Where congregations ne'er break up,
And Sabbaths have no end?

4 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know:

Blest seats, through rude and stormy scenes,
I onward press to you.

5 Why should I shrink at pain and woe,
Or feel at death, dismay ?

I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.

6 Apostles, martyrs, prophets there
Around my Saviour stand;

And soon my friends in Christ below,
Will join the glorious band.

7 Jerusalem, my happy home,
My soul still pants for thee;
Then shall my labours have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.

13

C. M.

Triumph over Death.

1 O! FOR an overcoming faith

To cheer my dying hours,