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The Sight of God and Christ the Joy of Heaven.
OH! for a sight-a pleasing sight

Of our almighty Father's throne!
There sits our Saviour, crowned with light,
Clothed with a body like our own.
2 Adoring saints around him stand,

And thrones and powers before him fall;
The God shines gracious through the man,
And sheds bright glories on them all!
3 Oh! what amazing joys they feel,
While to their golden harps they sing,
And echo from each heavenly hill,

The glorious triumphs of their King!
4 When shall the day, dear Lord, appear,
That I shall mount to dwell above;
And stand and bow amid them there,
And view thy face-and sing thy love?
Ralston. Appleton.

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L. M.

UP to the fields where angels lie,
And living waters gently roll,
Fain would my thoughts ascend on high,
But sin hangs heavy on my soul.

2 Oh might I once mount up and see
The glories of th' eternal skies!
How vain a thing this world would be!
How empty all its fleeting joys!

3 Great All in All! eternal King!
Let me but view thy lovely face,
And all my powers shall bow and sing
Thine endless grandeur and thy grace.

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Heavenly Joy on Earth.

COME, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.

2 Let those refuse to sing,
Who never knew our God;
But children of the heavenly king
May speak their joys abroad.

3 The hill of Zion yields

A thousand sacred sweets,

f

Before we reach the heavenly fields,

Or walk the golden streets.

4 Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;

We're marching through Immanuel's ground,
To fairer worlds on high.

390

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7s. Pleyel's Hymn. Pilton.
CHILDREN of the heavenly King,
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways.
2 Ye are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now-and ye
Soon their happiness shall see.

3 Shout, ye little flock, and blest;
You on Jesus' throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepared-
There your kingdom and reward.

Aff 4 Lord, submissive make us go,
Gladly leaving all below;

Only thou our leader be,

And we still will follow thee.

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This Life a Pilgrimage.

mp LORD, what a wretched land is this,
That yields us no supply,

No cheering fruits-no wholesome trees,
No streams of living joy?

2 Our journey is a thorny maze,
But we march upward still;

mf Forget these troubles of the ways,
And reach at Zion's hill.

dol 3 There, on a green and flowery mount, Len Our weary souls shall sit

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And with transporting joy recount
The labors of our feet.

4 Eternal glory to the King,

Whose hand conducts us through;
Our tongues shall never cease to sing,
And endless praise renew

392

C. M.

Medford. Dedham.

ETERNAL God, our wondering souls

Admire thy matchless grace;

That thou wilt walk-that thou wilt dwell
With Adam's sinful race.

2 Cheered with thy presence, I can trace
The desert with delight:

Through all the gloom, one smile of thine
Can dissipate the night.

3 Nor shall I through eternal days
A restless pilgrim roam;

Thy hand, that now directs my course,
Shall soon convey me home.

4 Joyful my spirit will consent
To drop its mortal load,

And hail the sharpest pangs of death,
That break its way to God.

393

L. M.

Uxbridge. Danvers.

ARISE, my soul! on wings sublime,
Above the vanities of time;
Remove the parting vail-and see
The glories of eternity!

2 Born by a new, celestial birth,
Why should I grovel here on earth?
Why grasp at vain and fleeting toys,
So near to heaven's eternal joys?

3 Shall aught beguile me on the road,
While I am walking back to God?
Or can I love this earth so well,
As not to long with God to dwell?

4 To dwell with God!-to taste his love,
Is the full heaven enjoyed above:
The glorious expectation now
Is heavenly bliss begun below.

394

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WE'VE no abiding city here;
We seek a land beyond our sight;
Zion its name-the Lord is there;
It shines with everlasting light.

2 Oh! sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims, freed from toil, are blest!

mf Had 1 the pinions of a dove,

I'd fly to thee-and be at rest.

pl 3 But hush, my soul-nor dare repine! The time my God appoints is best: mf While here, to do his will be mine, And his to fix my time of rest.

88, 7s & 4. Sicilian Hymn. Greenville.

395 God the Pilgrim's Guide and Strength.

GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land':
I am weak-but thou art mighty;
Hold me with thy powerful hand:
Bread of heaven,

Feed me till I want no more.
2 Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery cloudy pillar

Lead me all my journey through:
Strong Deliverer,

Be thou still my strength and shield.
3 When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside:
Bear me through the swelling current,
Land me safe on Canaan's side;
Songs of praises

I will ever give to thee.

C. M.

Grafton, Medfiera.

396 Contemplation of Death and Glory.

MY soul, come, meditate the day,
And think how near it stands,

When thou must quit this house of clay,
And fly to unknown lands.

2 Oh! could we die with those who die,
And place us in their stead,

Then would our spirits learn to fly,
And converse with the dead :-

3 Then should we see the saints above,
In their own glorious forms;
And wonder why our souls should love
To dwell with mortal worms.

4 We should almost forsake our clay
Before the summons come,

And pray, and wish our souls away
To their eternal home.

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Looking from Earth to Heaven.

mp LET death dissolve my body now, And bear my spirit home:

mp

Why do my days move on so slow,
Nor my salvation come?

2 God has laid up in heaven for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge, at that great day,
Shall place it on my head.

3 Jesus, the Lord, shall guard me safe
From every ill design;

And to his heavenly kingdom take
This feeble soul of mine.

4 God is my everlasting aid, My portion-and my friend; f To him be highest glory paid, Through ages without end.

398

C. M.

Bedford. St. Martin's,

OH, could our thoughts and wishes fly,
Above these gloomy shades,

To those bright worlds beyond the sky,
Which sorrow ne'er invades !

2 There, joys unseen by mortal eyes,
Or reason's feeble ray,

In ever-blooming prospect rise,
Exposed to no decay.

3 Lord, send a beam of light divine,
To guide our upward aim!
With one reviving look of thine,
Our languid hearts inflame.

4 Oh then, on faith's sublimest wing,
Our ardent souls shall rise,

To those bright scenes, where pleasures spring,
Immortal in the skies.

f

399

C. M.

Christmas. Warwick.

WHEN I can read my title clear

To mansions in the skies,

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

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