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I mf JERUSALEM the golden,
With milk and honey blest, dim Beneath thy contemplation
Sink heart and voice oppressed : cres I know not, oh, I know not
What joys await us there, f What radiancy of glory,
What light beyond compare !
All jubilant with song,
And all the martyr-throng;
The daylight is serene ;
Are decked in glorious sheen.
3 mf There is the throne of David,
And there, from care released, f The song of them that triumph,
The shout of them that feast :
Have conquered in the fight,
Are clad in robes of white,
4 P O sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect! cres O sweet and blessèd country,
That eager hearts expect !
To that dear land of rest,
And Spirit, ever blest. Amen.
409“What are these which are arrayed in white robes, and u hence came they?" t if HOW bright these glorious spirits 5 p Hunger and thirst, are felt no more,
Whence all their white array?[shine! Nor suns with scorching ray , How came they to the blissful seats cres God is their Sun, whose cheering Of everlasting day?
f Diffuse eternal day. [beams TM Lo, these are they from sufferings great 6mf The Lamb which dwells amidst the Who came to realms of light,
Shall o'er them still preside, (throne res And in the blood of Christ have washed Feed them with nourishment divine,
Those robes which shine so bright. And all their footsteps guide. f Now, with triumphal palms, they 7 mf'Mong pastures green He'll lead His stand
flock, Before the throne on high,
Where living streams appear ; And serve the God they love, amidst dim And God the Lord from every eye The glories of the sky.
Shall wipe off every tear. His presence fills each heart with joy, 8 f To Him who sits upon the throne, Tunes every mouth to sing ;
The God whom we adore, By day, by night, the sacred courte And to the Lamb that once was slain. With glad hosannas ring.
Be glory evermore! Amen. CHRISTCHURCH. 6,6,6,6,4,4,4,4. CHARLES STEGGALL, Mus. Doc.
“When shall I come and appear before God?" Emf JERUSALEM on high
4 mf The Lord's apostles there
I might with joy behold,
The harpers I might hear
Harping on harps of gold :
f Oh, happy place ? &c. My God, with Thee, to see Thy face? 5 € The bleeding martyrs, they mf There dwells my Lord, my King,
Within those courts are fouiid, P Judged here unfit to live;
cres Clothed in pure array, Eres There angels to Him sing,
Their scars with glory crowned : And lowly homage give :
f Oh, happy place ! &c. f Oh, happy place ! &c.
6 p Ah me! ah me! that I m The patriarchs of old
In Kedar's tents here stay ; 'There from their travels cease ;
No place like that on high ; 'The prophets there behold
cres Lord, thither guide my way : Their longed-for Prince of Peace :
f Oh, happy place ! &c. Amen. f Oh, happy place ! &c. 337