I THERE is an hour of peaceful rest
To mourning wanderers given;
There is a joy for souls distrest,
A balm for every wounded breast,
'T is found above, in heaven.

2 There is a home for weary souls,
By sin and sorrow driven,
When tossed on life's tempestuous
shoals,

Where storms arise and ocean rolls,

And all is drear but heaven.

3 There faith lifts up her cheerful eye,
To brighter prospects given,
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in heaven.

4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,

And joys supreme are given; There rays divine disperse the gloom; Beyond the confines of the tomb, Appears the dawn of heaven.

830

I EARTH has engrossed my love too long; 'Tis time I lift mine eyes

Upward, dear Father, to Thy throne, And to my native skies.

2 There the blest Man, my Saviour, sits,— The God! how bright He shines!— And scatters infinite delights

On all the happy minds.

3 Seraphs, with elevated strains, Circle the throne around;

And move and charm the starry plains,
With an immortal sound.

4 Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs ;
Jesus, Thy love they sing;
Jesus, the Life of all our joys,

Sounds sweet from every string.

5 Now let me mount and join their song, And be an angel too;

My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue,
Here's joyful work for you.

831

I How bright these glorious spirits shine!
Whence all their white array?
How came they to the blissful seats

Of everlasting day?

2 Lo! these are they from sufferings great

Who came to realms of light,
And in the blood of Christ have washed
These robes which shine so bright.

3 Now, with triumphal palms, they stand
Before the throne on high,
And serve the God they love, amid
The glories of the sky.

4 The Lamb that dwells amid the throne,
Shall o'er them still preside,
Feed them with nourishment divine,
And all their footsteps guide.

5 In pastures green He'll lead His flock,
Where living streams appear ;
And God, the Lord, from every eye
Shall wipe off every tear.

RHINE. C. M.

832

I 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 rolled between.

4 But timorous mortals start and shrink, To cross this narrow sea;

And linger, shivering on the brink,

And fear to launch away.

I OH for the pearly gates of heaven!
Oh for the golden floor!

Oh for the Sun of Righteousness
That setteth nevermore !

833

flood

Should fright us from the shore.

I ON Jordan's stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.

How soon they tire and faint! How many a spot defiles the robe

That wraps an earthly saint!

3 Oh for a heart that never sins!
Oh for a soul washed white!
Oh for a voice to praise our King,
Nor weary, day nor night!

HUGHES.

C. M. Double.

3

835

I O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem,
When shall I come to thee!
When shall my sorrows have an end,
Thy joys when shall I see!
O happy harbor of God's saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow can be found,
Nor grief, nor care, nor toil.

2 No dimming cloud o'ershadows thee, Nor gloom, nor darksome night; But every soul shines as the sun,

For God Himself gives light. Thy walls are made of precious stone,

Thy bulwarks diamond-square, Thy gates are all of orient pearlO God! if I were there!

3 Right through thy streets, with pleasing

sound

The flood of life doth flow,

And on the banks, on either side,

The trees of life do grow: Those trees each month yield ripened fruit,

For evermore they spring;
And all the nations of the earth

To thee their honors bring.

4 There the blest souls that hardly 'scaped The snare of death and hell, Triumph in joy eternally,

Whereof no tongue can tell. O mother dear, Jerusalem! When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end? Thy joys when shall I see?

JENNER,

75 & 6s.

2

A-men.

836

I FOR thee, O dear, dear country,
Mine eyes their vigils keep;
For very love beholding
Thy happy name they weep:
The mention of thy glory

Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,
And love, and life, and rest.

2 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!
Thou hast no time, bright day!
Dear fountain of refreshment
To pilgrims far away!
Upon the Rock of Ages

They raise thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor's laurel,

And thine the golden dower.

3 O one, O only mansion!
O Paradise of joy!
Where tears are ever banished,
And smiles have no alloy;
The Lamb is all thy splendor;

The Crucified thy praise;
His laud and benediction
Thy ransomed people raise.

4 With jasper glow thy bulwarks, Thy streets with emeralds blaze; The sardius and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays;
Thine ageless walls are bonded

With amethyst unpriced;
Thy saints build up its fabric,

The corner-stone is Christ.