3 I'd part with all the joys of sense
To gaze upon thy throne;
Pleasure springs fresh forever thence,
Unspeakable, unknown.

4 There all the heavenly hosts are seen;
In shining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigor in

With wonder and with love.

5 Then at thy feet, with awful fear,
The adoring armies fall;

With joy they shrink to nothing there
Before the Eternal All.

528

L. M.

WATTS.

The Vanity of this World, and the Hope of a better. Ps. 17.

1 WHAT sinners value I resign;

Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine;
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.

2 This life's a dream, an empty show;
But the bright world to which I go
Hath joys substantial and sincere ;
When shall I wake and find me there?

3 O glorious hour! O blest abode !
I shall be near and like my God!
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of the soul.

4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound,
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Savior's image rise.

529

C. M.

Felicity above.

WATTS.

1 THERE'S nothing round these painted skies, Or round this dusty clod,

Nothing, my soul, that's worth thy joys,

Or lovely as thy God.

2 'Tis heaven on earth to taste his love,
To feel his quickening grace;

And all the heaven I hope above
Is but to see his face.

3 Why move my years in slow delay?
O God of ages, why?

Let the spheres cleave, and mark my way
To the superior sky.

530

C. M.

Imperishable Riches.

DODDRIDGE.

1 THESE mortal joys, how soon they fade! How swift they pass away!

The dying flower reclines its head,
The beauty of a day.

2 But there are joys that cannot die,
With God laid up in store

-

Treasure beyond the changing sky,
Brighter than golden ore.

3 To that my rising heart aspires,
Secure to find its rest,

And glories in such wide desires
Of all their wish possessed.

4 The seeds which piety and love
Have scattered here below,
In the fair, fertile fields above,
To ample harvests grow.

The near Approach of Salvation.

1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes,
And raise your voices high;

Awake, and praise that sovereign love,
That shows salvation nigh.

2 On all the wings of time it flies;
Each moment brings it near;
Then welcome, each declining day;
Welcome, each closing year.

3 Not many years their round shall run,
Nor many mornings rise,

Ere all its glories stand revealed

To our admiring eyes.

4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course;
Ye mortal powers, decay;

Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day.

The Hope of Heaven a Support under Trials.

1 WHEN I can read my title clear

To mansions in the skies,

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

WATTS.

2 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall,

May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heaven, my all, —
3 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest,

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

533

C. M.

WATTS.

The Martyrs glorified.

1 "THESE glorious minds, how bright they shine! Whence all their white array ?

How came they to the happy seats

Of everlasting day?

2 From torturing pains to endless joys
On fiery wheels they rode,

And strangely washed their raiment white
In Jesus' dying blood.

3 Now they approach a spotless God,
And bow before his throne;

Their warbling harps and sacred songs
Adore the Holy One.

4 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls,
And hunger fly as fast;

The fruit of life's immortal tree

Shall be their sweet repast.

5 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock
Where living fountains rise,

And love divine shall wipe away
The sorrows of their eyes.

A Vision of the Lamb.

1 ALL mortal vanities, be gone,

WATTS.

Nor tempt my eyes nor tire my ears;
Behold, amidst the eternal throne,
A vision of the Lamb appears!

2 Lo, he receives a sealed book

From him that sits upon the throne! Jesus, my Lord, prevails to look

On dark decrees and things unknown.

3 All the assembling saints around

Fall worshipping before the Lamb, And in new songs of gospel sound Address their honors to his name. 4 The joy, the shout, the harmony, Flies o'er the everlasting hills; "Worthy art thou alone," they cry, "To read the book, to loose the seals."

5 Our voices join the heavenly strain,

And with transporting pleasure sing, "Worthy the Lamb, that once was slain, To be our Teacher and our King!"

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