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Swift on my view your prospect pours,
And drives my griefs away.

3 There's a delightful clearness now-
My clouds of doubt are gone;
Fled is my former darkness too-
My fears are all withdrawn.

4 Short is the passage-short the space
Between my home and me;

There! there behold the radiant place!
How near the mansions be !

5 Immortal wonders! boundless things,
In those dear worlds appear!
Prepare me, Lord, to stretch my wings,
And in those glories share.

HYMN 596. C. M.

Colchester, Springfield.

The everlasting song.

WATTS.

1 ARTH has engross'd 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, my love, they sing! Jesus, the life of all our joys,

Sounds sweet from ev'ry 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.

6 I would begin the music here,
And so my soul should rise;
Oh, for some heav'nly notes to bear
My passions to the skies.

1

HYMN 597. 8s.

I

Lambeth, Uxbridge.

The last conflict.

COLLYER.

SOON shall accomplish my race,
And soar to the temple on high;
Dear Jesus, beholding thy face,
I cheerfully yield me to die.
Fewel, my distress and my wo-
storms of existence are o'er;

Tho hercely the tempest may blow,
It's fury appals me no more.

2 More quickly and shorter I breatheThe dew is o'erspreading my cheekI feel the approaches of death,

My heartstrings beginning to break;
A struggle or two and 'tis done-
From earth and its anguish I fly;
The palm of the conqueror won,
I live by submitting to die.

HYMN 598.

8, 7.

C. WESLEY.

Sicilian, Northampton-Chapel.

The departing saint.

1 HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,
thy mourning days below:

Go, by angel-guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus, go!

2 Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above, Shows the glory of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love. 3 Struggle thro' thy latest passion To thy dear Redeemer's breast, To his uttermost salvation,

To his everlasting rest.

4 For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die, to live the life of glory-
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.

HYMN 599. 8s. M. DE FLEURY.

Uxbridge, Dismission.

Panting for Heaven.

Y and view my Immanuel's face,

E angels, who stand round the throne,

In rapturous songs make him known;
Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise:
He form'd you the spirits you are,
So happy, so noble, so good;
When others sunk down in despair,
Confirm'd by his pow'r, ye stood.

2 Ye saints, who stand nearer than they,
And cast your bright crowns at his feet,
His grace and his glory display,
And all his rich mercy repeat:
He snatch'd you from hell and the grave-
He ransom'd from death and despair:
For you he was mighty to save,
Almighty to bring you safe there.
3 Oh, when will the period appear,
When I shall unite in your song
I'm weary of lingering here,

And I to your Saviour belong!
I'm fetter'd and chain'd up in clay;
I struggle and pant to be free;
I long to be soaring away,

My God and my Saviour to see! 4 I want to put on my attire,

?

Wash'd white in the blood of the Lamb; I want to be one of your choir,

And tune my sweet harp to his name ; I want-Oh, I want to be there,

Where sorrow and sin bid adieuYour joy and your friendship to shareTo wonder, and worship with you!

'H

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Heaven. John xiv. 2.

IGH in yonder realms of light,
Dwell the raptur'd saints above,

Far beyond our feeble sight,
Happy in Immanuel's love!

Pilgrims in this vale of tears,
Once they knew, like us below,
Gloomy doubts, distressing fears,
Tort'ring pain and heavy wo.
2 Oft the big, unbidden tear,

Stealing down the furrow'd cheek, Told, in eloquence sincere,

Tales of wo they could not speak,
But, these days of weeping o'er,
Past this scene of toil and pain,
They shall feel distress no more,
Never-never weep again!

3 'Mid the chorus of the skies,
'Mid th' angelic lyres above,
Hark-their songs melodious rise,
Songs of praise to Jesus' love!
Happy Spirits! ye are fled,

Where no grief can entrance find,
Lull'd to rest the aching head,
Sooth'd the anguish of the mind!

4 All is tranquil and serene,

Calm and undisturb'd repose—
There no cloud can intervene-
There no angry tempest blows!
Ev'ry tear is wip'd away,

Sighs no more shall heave the breast;
Night is lost in endless day-

Sorrow-in eternal rest!

449

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