Page images
PDF
EPUB

209.

8 & 7s M.

SACRED HARP.

The Place of Rest.

1 THERE is an hour of peaceful rest
To mourning wanderers given;
There is a tear for souls distressed,
A balm for every wounded breast
"Tis found above. - in heaven!

2 There is a home for weeping 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 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!

210. C. M.

MONTGOMERY.

Heaven and Earth.

1 WHILE through this changing world we roam, From infancy to age,

Heaven is the Christian pilgrim's home,

His rest at every stage.

2 Thither his raptured thought ascends,
Eternal joys to share;
There his adoring spirit bends,

While here he kneels in prayer.

3 Ah! there may we our treasure place,
There let our hearts be found,
That still, where sin abounded, grace
May more and more abound.

4 Henceforth our conversation be
With Christ before the throne:
Ere long we eye to eye shall see,
And know as we are known.

211.

C. M.

MRS. STEELE.

Immortal Joys.

1 O, COULD our thoughts and wishes fly,
Above earth's 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,
Unconscious of decay.

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

4 Then shall on faith's sublimest wing
Our ardent wishes rise

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

212.

C. P. M.

BELFAST COL.

The dying Christian.

1 WHEN life's tempestuous storms are o'er,
How calm he meets the friendly shore,
Who lived averse from sin!
Such peace on virtue's paths attends,
That, where the sinner's pleasure ends,
The Christian's joys begin.

2 See smiling Patience smooth his brow!
See bending angels downward bow,
To cheer his way on high!
While, eager for the blest abode,
He joins with them to praise the God
Who taught him how to die.

3 O, grant, my Father and my Friend,
Such joys may gild my peaceful end;
So calm my evening close;
While, loosed from every earthly tie,
With steady confidence I fly
To thee, from whom I rose.

213.

L. M.

MRS. MACKAY.

Sleeping in Jesus.

1 ASLEEP in Jesus! blesséd sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the dread of foes.

2 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest,
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woes, shall dim that hour
Which manifests the Savior's power.

3 Asleep in Jesus! time nor space
Debars this precious hiding-place;
On Indian plains or Lapland's snows
Believers find the same repose.

4 Asleep in Jesus! far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.

214.

8 & 4s M.

MONTGOMERY.

The Grave.

1 THERE is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found:
They softly lie and sweetly sleep
Low in the ground.

2 The storm that sweeps the wintry sky
No more disturbs their deep repose,
Than summer evening's latest sigh,
That shuts the rose.

3 Then, traveller in the vale of tears,
To realms of everlasting light,
Through time's dark wilderness of years,
Pursue thy flight.

4 Thy soul, renewed by grace divine,
In God's own image, freed from clay,
In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine,
A star of day.

[blocks in formation]

The Light of the Gospel on the Tomb.

1 DARK, dark indeed the grave would be,
Had we no light, O God, from thee;
If all we saw were all we knew,
Or hope from reason only grew.

2 But fearless now we rest in faith;
A holy life makes happy death;
'Tis but a change ordained by thee,
To set th' imprisoned spirit free.

3 Sad, sad, indeed, 'twould be to part
From those who long had shared our heart,
If thou hadst left us still to fear
Love's only heritage was here.

4 But calmly now we see them go
From out this world of pain and woe;
We follow to a home on high,
Where pure affections never die.

216.

L. M. 61.

CHRISTIAN PSALMIST.

Foretaste of Heaven.

1 WHAT must it be to dwell above,

At God's right hand, where Jesus reigns,
Since the sweet earnest of his love
O'erwhelms us on these earthly plains!
No heart can think, no tongue explain,
What bliss it is with Christ to reign.

2 When sin no more obstructs our sight,
When sorrow pains our hearts no more,
How shall we view the Prince of Light,
And all his works of grace explore!
What heights and depths of love divine
Will there through endless ages shine!

3 This is the heaven I long to know;
For this, with patience, I would wait,
Till, weaned from earth and all below,
I mount to my celestial seat,

And wave my palm, and wear my crown,
And, with the elders, cast them down.

« PreviousContinue »