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163

HYMN. L. M.
The Worship of Heaven.

1 O FOR a sweet, inspiring ray,
To animate our feeble strains,

From the bright realms of endless day, The blissful realms, where Jesus reigns. 2 There, low before his glorious throne, Adoring saints and angels fall;

And with delightful worship own,

His smile their bliss, their heav'n, their all. 3 Immortal glories crown his head, While tuneful hallelujahs rise,

And love, and joy, and triumph spread
Through all th' assemblies of the skies.
4 He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs
To boundless rapture, while they gaze:
Ten thousand, thousand joyful tongues
Resound his everlasting praise.

5 There all the foll'wers of the Lamb
Shall join at last the heav'nly choir;
O may the joy-inspiring theme
Awake our faith and warm desire!
6 Dear Saviour, let thy spirit seal
Our int'rest in that blissful place;
Till death remove this mortal veil,
And we behold thy lovely face.

HYMN. 8's and 6's.

164 The Everlasting Bliss of Heaven.

1 HEAV'N is the land where troubles cease,
Where toils and tears are o'er;
The blissful clime of rest and peace,
Where cares distract no more,
And not the shadow of distress
Dims its unsullied blessedness.

2 Heav'n is the place where Jesus lives,
To plead his dying blood;

While, to his pray'rs, his Father gives
An unknown multitude,

Whose harps and tongues, through endless days,
Shall crown his head with songs of praise.

3 Heav'n is the dwelling place of joy, The home of light and love,

Where faith and hope in rapture die,
And ransom'd souls above
Enjoy, before th' eternal throne,
Bliss everlasting and unknown.

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1 WHEN I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,

I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.

2 Should earth against my

soul

engage,

And hellish darts be hurl'd,
Then I can smile at Satan's rage,
And face a frowning world.

3 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall;
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav'n, my all:

4 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav'nly rest,

And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.

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1 THERE is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never with'ring flow'rs;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heav'nly land from ours.
Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dress'd in living green;
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.

4 But tim'rous mortals start and shrink, To cross this narrow sea;

And linger, shiv'ring on the brink,
And fear to launch away.

5 O! could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy doubts that rise,

And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes!

6 Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er,

Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.

167

HYMN. 8's and 6's.

The Peace and Rest of Heaven.

1 THERE is an hour of peaceful rest,
To mourning wand'rers giv'n;
There is a joy for souls distress'd,
A balm for ev'ry wounded breast-
'Tis found above-in heav'n.

2 There is a home for weary souls,
By sin and sorrow driv❜n,

When toss'd on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,
And all is drear but heav'n.

3 There faith lifts up her cheerful eye,
To brighter prospects giv❜n;
And views the tempest passing by,
The ev'ning shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in heav'n!

4 There, fragrant flow'rs immortal, bloom,
And joys supreme are giv❜n:
There, rays divine disperse the gloom;-
Beyond the confines of the tomb,

Appears the dawn of heav'n!

THE END.

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