Sinner will

you go To the high lands of heaven? Where the storms never blow,

And the long summer's given. Where the bright blooming flowers

Are their odors emitting, And the leaves of the bowers

In the breezes are flitting. Where the rivers of Joy

O'er the bright plains are flowing, And our bliss ne'er shall cloy

To that land we are going. 0, say, will you go,

And the world leave behind you? Since its pleasure you know

Have but dazzled to blind you. Will yon go to that land

Where your friends wait to greet you There a beautiful band

Join with us to entreat you; They are waiting above,

Waiting happy to hail you, Io those regions of love

Where no ills can assail you.

To that bright home in heaven, Nor will tarry below

Where true joy ne'er is given. I will follow the just

In the high-ways and holy; Taking God for my trust

With the meek and the lowly, I have wandered from light,

I have wandered in sorrow. I have dreamed in the night

Of the joy of the morrow; But the joy of the morn

Was still mingled with sadness, And the evening's return

Without comfort or gladness.

I

Where the saints robed in white,

Cleansed in life's flowing fountain; Shining beauteous and bright,

They inhabit the mountain; Where no sin or dismay,

Neither trouble nor sorrow, Will be felt for a day,

Nor be feared for the morrow. He's prepared thee a home,

Sinner's can'st thou believe it! And invites thee to come,

Sinner wilt thou receive it! 0, come, sinner come!

For the tide is receding : And the Saviour will sova,

And for ever cease pleading

will bid earth adieu,

With its vain empty pleasures, And my journey pursue

To a land of bright treasures; I will sing of his love,

I will trust in his merit, Who will call me above

Endless joys to inherit. Blessed Savour on high !

Help a sinner to serve thee ! If salvation is nigh,

O, protect and preserve me! And when devils assail,

Or the wicked allure me, May thy strength still prevail

And thy Spirit assure me. Thus encompassed about

By his grace and his power, I will wrestle and shout

Till the glad final hour; Then sing of his grace

As I pass o'er the river, And beholding his face

Shout his praises forever,