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Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.

3 Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and

sea,

And laden souls, by thousands meekly steal

ing,

Kind Shepherd! turn their weary steps to
Thee.

Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.

4 Rest comes at length; though life be long and dreary,

The day must dawn, and darksome night

be past;

All journeys end in welcomes to the weary, And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last.

Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.

234

108.

'Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.'

1 ABIDE with me! fast falls the even-tide; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide! When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me!

2 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see:

O Thou who changest not, abide with me!

3 I need Thy presence every passing hour, What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?

Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me!

4 I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness: Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory?

I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

5 Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes, Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;

Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee:

In life, and death, O Lord, abide with me!

235

7, 6; 7, 5.

'Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty: they shall behold the land that is very far off?

1 THE sands of time are sinking,

The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for,
The fair, sweet morn awakes:

Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory-glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

2 There the red Rose of Sharon
Unfolds its heartmost bloom,
And fills the air of heaven
With ravishing perfume.
Oh! to behold it blossom,
While by its fragrance fanned,
Where glory-glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

3 Oh! Christ, He is the fountain-
The deep, sweet well of love!
The streams on earth I've tasted,
More deep I'll drink above;
There to an ocean fulness

His mercy doth expand,
And glory-glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

4 Oh! I am my Beloved's
And my Beloved is mine!
He brings a poor vile sinner
Into His house of wine.
I stand upon His merit,
I know no other stand,
Not e'en where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

236

5 I've wrestled on towards heaven,
'Gainst storm and wind and tide;
Now, like a weary traveller

That leaneth on his guide,
Amid the shades of evening,

While sinks life's lingering sand,
I hail the glory, dawning
From Immanuel's land.

6 With mercy and with judgment
My web of time He wove,
And aye the dews of sorrow

Were lustred with His love;

I'll bless the Hand that guided,

I'll bless the Heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

7, 7, 7, 5.

'At Thy right hand there are pleasures
for evermore.'

1 WHEN the day of toil is done,
When the race of life is run,
Father, grant Thy wearied one
Rest for evermore!

2 When the darkness melts away
At the breaking of the day,
Bid us hail the cheering ray,

Light for evermore!

3 When the heart by sorrow tried Feels at length its throbs subside, Bring us, where all tears are dried, Joy for evermore!

4 When for vanished days we yearn, Days that never can return, Teach us in Thy love to learn

Love for evermore!

5 When the breath of life is flown, When the grave must claim its own, Lord of life! be ours Thy crown,

Life for evermore!

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