1 Oн could we speak the matchless worth, 2 We'd sing the characters he bears, Exalted on his throne: In loftiest songs of sweetest praise, Make all his glories known. 3 Oh the delightful day will come, When Christ, our Lord, will bring us home And we shall see his face! Then, with our Saviour, Brother, Friend, And hail a Saviour's birth: Let songs of joy the day proclaim, When Jesus all-triumphant came To bless the sons of earth! 2 He came to bid the weary rest, 3 He came our trembling souls to save 4 Then let our mingling voices rise 1 COME unto me, when shadows darkly gather, 2 Ye who have mourned when the spring-flowers were taken, Where their pale brows with spirit-wreaths are crowned, 3 Large are the mansions in thy Father's dwelling, Sweet are the harps in holy music swelling, Soft are the tones which raise the heavenly hymn. 4 There, like an Eden blossoming in gladness, Bloom the fair flowers the earth too rudely pressed: Come unto me, and I will give you rest. ANON E. TAYLOR I THERE's not a hope with comfort fraught, | 2 His image meets me in the hour But Jesus mingles in the thought, Of joy, and brightens every smile; 3 Did not thy spirit shrink dismayed, As the dark vision o'er it came; And, though in sinless strength arrayed, Turn, shuddering, from the death of shame ? 4 Onward, like thee, thro' scorn and dread, 1 ""Tis finished: STENNETT. so the Saviour cried, And meekly bowed his head, and died; "Tis finished: " "yes, the race is run, The battle fought, the victory won. 2 ""Tis finished: " all that Heaven foretold 3" "Tis finished:" Son of God, thy power |