4 Therefore I murmur not,
Heaven is my home;
Whate'er my earthly lot,
Heaven is my home;
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord's right hand;
Heaven is my Father-land,
Heaven is my home.
1 Cor. xv. 42-44. 148th M. C. E
HEAVEN, abode of saints,
Where sin' can never come,
For thee my spirit faints;
I long to be at home.
O world of peace, O land of rest,
When shall I reach thee and be bless'd?
O Death, once dreaded foe,
Thy name no fear inspires;
Thine icy hand, I know,
Will quench corruption's fires;
And not a spark be left within
Which aught can kindle into sin.
The worm will sweetly feed
On my unconscious form;
But I shall then be freed,
And safe from every storm;
And when that form is raised anew,
It will be fair and spotless too.
Repairer of my fall,
Oh! by Thy dying love,
Receive my mournful call:
Thy voice can calm the storm within,
Thy blood can wash away my sin.
LORD, it belongs not to my care,
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve Thee is my share,
And this Thy grace must give.
2 Christ leads me through no darker rooms Than He went through before;
He that into God's kingdom comes,
Must enter by this door.
3 Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet,
Thy blessed face to see;
For if Thy work on earth be sweet,
What will Thy glory be?
4 Then I shall end my sad complaints,
And weary sinful days;
And join with the triumphant saints,
Who sing Jehovah's praise.
5 My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim;
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with Him.
H, the hour when this material
O'shall have vanished as a cloud;
When, amid the wide ethereal,
All the invisible shall crowd;
And the naked soul, surrounded
With realities unknown,
Triumph in the view unbounded,
Feel herself with God alone!
2 In that sudden, strange transition,
By what new and finer sense
Shall she grasp the mighty vision,
And receive its influence?
Angels, guard the new immortal
Through the wonder-teeming space
To the everlasting portal,
To the spirit's resting-place.
3 Will she then, with fond emotion,
Nought of earthly love retain ?
Or, absorbed in pure devotion,
Will no mortal trace remain?
Can the grave those ties dissever,
With the very heart-strings twined?
Must she part, and part for ever,
With the friend she leaves behind?
4 No, the past she still remembers;
Faith and hope, surviving too,
Ever watch those sleeping embers,
Which must rise and live anew.
For the widowed, lonely spirit,
Waiting to be clothed afresh,
Longs perfection to inherit,
And to triumph in the flesh.
5 Angels, let the ransomed stranger
In your tender care be bless'd,
Hoping, trusting, safe from danger,
Till the trumpet end her rest;
Till the trump which shakes creation,
Through the circling heavens shall roll,
Till the day of consummation,
Till the bridal of the soul.
6 Can I trust a fellow-being?
Can I trust an angel's care?
O Thou merciful All-seeing,
Beam around my spirit there.
Jesus, blessed Mediator,
Thou the airy path hast trod:
Thou the Judge, the Consummator,
Shepherd of the fold of God.
7 Blessed fold, no foe can enter,
And no friend departeth thence.
Jesus is their sun, their centre;
And their shield, Omnipotence.
Blessed, for the Lamb shall feed them,
All their tears shall wipe away,
To the living fountains lead them,
Till fruition's perfect day.
8 Lo! it comes, that day of wonder!
Louder chorals shake the skies.
Hades' gates are burst asunder:
See, the new-clothed myriads rise.
Thought, repress thy weak endeavour:
Here must reason prostrate fall.
Oh, the Ineffable For Ever!
And the Eternal All in all!
HIS LAST CONFLICT.
644 Job xxxviii. 17.
THY should we start and fear to die?
What timorous worms we mortals are! Death is the gate of endless joy,
And yet we dread to enter there.
2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,
Fright our approaching souls away;
Still we shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.
3 Oh! if my Lord would come and meet,
My soul should stretch her wings in haste,
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as she pass'd.
4 Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on His breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.
Psalm xxxix. 11, 12. 6.6.4. HEMANS. OWLY and solemn be
Thy children's cry to Thee,
Father divine!
A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are Thine.
2 O Father, in that hour,
When earth all succouring power
Shall disavow;
When spear, and shield, and crown,
In faintness are cast down;
Sustain us, Thou.
3 By Him who bowed to take
The death-cup for our sake,
The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay
Was not to pass away;
Aid us, O God.
4 Tremblers beside the grave,
We call on Thee to save,
Father divine:
Hear, hear our suppliant breath,
Keep us in life and death,
Thine, only Thine.
646 Psalm xxiii. 4. 8.8.8.6.
FATHER, when Thy child is dying,
On the bed of anguish lying,
Then my every want supplying,
To me Thy love display.
2 Let me willingly surrender
Life to Thee, its gracious Lender
Can I find a friend more tender?
Why should I wish to stay?
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