3 Blest inhabitants of Zion,
Wash'd in the Redeemer's blood!
Jesus, Whom their souls rely on,
Makes them kings and priests to God.
Jesus' love His people raises,
Over self to reign as kings!
And, as priests, His solemn praises
Each for a thank-offering brings. Amen.
"There shall be no night there."
1 FAR 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 No cloud those blissful regions know,
For ever bright and fair;
For sin, the source of mortal woe,
Can never enter there.
4 The glorious Monarch there displays
His beams of wondrous grace;
His happy subjects sing His praise,
And bow before His face.
5 O may the heavenly prospect fire
Our hearts with ardent love,
Till wings of faith and strong desire
Bear every thought above!
6 Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine
For Thy bright courts on high;
Then bid our spirits rise and join
The chorus of the sky. Amen.
338 "The Lord, thy God, bringeth thee
into a good land."
1 THERE is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Where endless day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain;
There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
That heavenly land from ours.
2 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dress'd in living green;
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.
But timorous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea,
And linger shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away.
3 Oh! could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes!
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. Amen.
339 "The throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and His servants shall serve Him."
1 THERE is a blessèd Home
Beyond this land of woe,
Where trials never come,
Nor tears of sorrow flow;
Where faith is lost in sight,
And patient hope is crown'd,
And everlasting light
Its glory throws around.
2 There is a land of peace,
Good angels know it well:
Glad songs that never cease
Within its portals swell;
Around its glorious throne
Ten thousands saints adore
Christ, with the Father One
And Spirit evermore.
3 0 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. Amen.
340 "He shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem."
1 JERUSALEM, my happy home,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?
2 O happy harbour of the saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
No grief, no care, no toil.
3 [Thy walls are made of precious stones,
Thy bulwarks diamonds square,
Thy gates are of right orient pearl,
Exceeding rich and rare.
4 Thy turrets and thy pinnacles
With carbuncles do shine;
Thy very streets are paved with gold,
Surpassing clear and fine.]
5 Thy houses are of ivory,
Thy windows crystal clear;
Thy tiles are made of beaten gold;
Ŏ God, that I were there!
6 Ah! my sweet home, Jerusalem,
Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,
Thy joys that I might see.
7 Thy saints are crowned with glory great, They see God face to face;
They triumph still, they still rejoice,
Most happy is their case.
8 Quite through the streets, with silver sound, The flood of life doth flow;
Upon whose banks on every side
The wood of life doth grow.
9 There trees for evermore bear fruit,
And evermore do spring;
There evermore the angels sit,
And evermore do sing.
10 Jerusalem, my happy home,
Would God, I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,
Thy joys that I might see!
341 "He hath prepared for them a city."
1 JERUSALEM! my happy home,
Name ever dear to me,
When shall my labours have an end,
In joy and peace and thee?
When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls
And pearly gates behold;
Thy bulwarks, with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold?
2 Oh, when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend;
In joy and peace with Him to dwell,
Whose kingdom hath no end?
Why should I shrink at pain and woe,
Or feel at death dismay?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.
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