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159.

Old 44th.

From Ravenscroft's "Whole Booke of Psalmes," 1621.

1

FAR

AR from these narrow scenes of night
Unbounded glories rise,

And realms of infinite delight,
Unknown to mortal eyes.

2 Fair distant land; could mortal eyes
But half its joys explore,
How would our spirits long to rise,
And dwell on earth no more!

3 There pain and sickness never come,
And grief no more complains:
Health triumphs in immortal bloom,
And endless pleasure reigns.

4 No clouds those blissful regions know,
For ever bright and fair;
For sin, the source of mortal woe,
Can never enter there.

5 There no alternate night is known,
Nor sun's faint sickly ray;
But glory from the sacred Throne
Spreads everlasting day.

6 The glorious Monarch there displays
His beams of wondrous grace;
His happy subjects sing His praise,
And bow before His face.

7 O may the heavenly prospect fire
Our hearts with ardent love,
Till wings of faith and strong desire
Bear every thought above!

8 Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine,
For Thy bright courts on high;
Then bid our spirits rise, and join
The chorus of the sky.

Anne Steele, 1760.

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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-withering flowers;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.

3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green:

So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.

4 But timorous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea,
And linger shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away.

5 O! could we make our doubts remove,
These 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.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

"O stilles Gotteslamm."

161.

c. 1714.

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3 O joy all joys_beyond.

To see the Lamb who died,
And count each sacred wound
In hands, and feet, and side:
To give to Him the praise
Of every triumph won,
And sing through endless days
The great things He hath done.

4 Look up, ye saints of God,
Nor fear to tread below
The path your Saviour trod
Of daily toil and woe;
Wait but a little while

In uncomplaining love,
His own most gracious smile
Shall welcome you above.

Sir Henry Baker, 1861.

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2 O happy retribution!

Short toil, eternal rest; For mortals and for sinners A mansion with the blest!

3 That we should look, poor wand'rers, To have our home on high!

That worms should seek for dwellings Beyond the starry sky!

4 To all one happy guerdon

Of one celestial grace:

For all, for all, who mourn their fall, Is one eternal place.

5 And martyrdom hath roses

Upon that heavenly ground; And white and virgin lilies For virgin souls abound.

6 There grief is turned to pleasure;
Such pleasure, as below
No human voice can utter,
No human heart can know:

7 And, after fleshly scandal,
And after this world's night,
And after storm and whirlwind,
Is calm, and joy, and light.

8 And now we fight the battle; But then shall wear the crown Of full and everlasting

And passionless renown.

9 And now we watch and struggle, And now we live in hope, And Sion in her anguish

With Babylon must cope:

10 But He, Whom now we trust in, Shall then be seen and known, And they who know and see Him Shall have Him for their own.

John Mason Neale, 1861. From Bernard of Morlaix.

Christmas Carol.

163.

Old English.

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Oh! for a heart that never sins!
Oh! for a soul wash'd white!
Oh! for a voice to praise our King,
Nor weary day or night!

3 Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope,
And grace to lead us higher:
But there are perfectness and peace
Beyond our best desire.

Oh! by Thy love and anguish, Lord!
Oh! by Thy life laid down!

Oh! that we fall not from Thy grace,

Nor cast away our crown!

Cecil Frances Alexander [1853].

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