Swift on my view your prospect pours, 3 There's a delightful clearness now- 4 Short is the passage-short the space There! there behold the radiant place! 5 Immortal wonders! boundless things, 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, 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, 6 I would begin the music here, 1 HYMN 597. 8s. I Lambeth, Uxbridge. The last conflict. COLLYER. SOON shall accomplish my race, Tho hercely the tempest may blow, 2 More quickly and shorter I breatheThe dew is o'erspreading my cheekI feel the approaches of death, My heartstrings beginning to break; HYMN 598. 8, 7. C. WESLEY. Sicilian, Northampton-Chapel. The departing saint. 1 HAPPY soul, thy days are ended, Go, by angel-guards attended, 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, 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; 2 Ye saints, who stand nearer than they, And I to your Saviour belong! 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 Heaven. John xiv. 2. IGH in yonder realms of light, Far beyond our feeble sight, Pilgrims in this vale of tears, Stealing down the furrow'd cheek, Told, in eloquence sincere, Tales of wo they could not speak, 3 'Mid the chorus of the skies, Where no grief can entrance find, 4 All is tranquil and serene, Calm and undisturb'd repose— Sighs no more shall heave the breast; Sorrow-in eternal rest! 449 |