28 L. M. No Abiding Here. 1 "WE'VE no abiding city here," 2 "We've no abiding city here," Sad truth, were this to be our home 3 "We've no abiding city here," 4 "We've no abiding city here," 5 0! sweet abode of peace and love, Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest; Had I the pinions of the dove, I'd flee to thee and be at rest. 6 But hush, my soul, nor dare repine, 29 L. M. Home in view. 1 As when the weary traveller gains The height of some o'erlooking hill, He eyes his home, though distant still. Because his journey's end is seen. 3 Thus when the Christian pilgrim views By faith, his mansion in the skies, And wings his speed to reach the prize. 4 The thought of home his spirit cheers, No more he grieves for troubles past; Nor any future trial fears, So he may safe arrive at last. 5 'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell With Jesus, in the realms of day; And he will wipe my tears away. 6 Jesus, on thee our hope depends, For all our toil while on the road. Anticipation of Heaven. 1 THE hour of my departure's come; 2 The race appointed I have run ; 3 Not in mine innocence I trust; 4 I leave the world without a tear, Save for the friends I held so dear; |