Page images
PDF
EPUB

It is that heaven-taught faith surveys

The path to realms of light; And longs her eagle plumes to raise,

And lose herself in sight.

It is that hope with ardour glows

To see Him face to face, Whose dying love no language knows

Sufficient art to trace.

It is that harass'd conscience feels

The pangs of struggling sin; Sees, though afar, the hand that heals

And ends her war within.

Oh! let me wing my hallow'd flight

From earth-born wo and care ; And soar beyond these realms of night, My Saviour's bliss to share.

NOEL.

A BROTHER IN ADVERSITY.

WHEN every scene this side the grave

Seems dark and cheerless to the eye, How sweet in such an hour to have

A brother in adversity !

When father, mother, all are gone,

When bursts affection's closest tie, How sweet to claim, as still our own,

A brother in adversity !

When frowns an angry world unkind,

And hope's delusive visions fly, How sweet in such an hour to find

A brother in adversity?

And who is this whom still we find,

When father, mother, husband die, Still faithful, tender, loving, kind?

A brother in adversity!

Jesus! my Lord! ah, who can trace

Thy love unchanging, full, and free! Or tell the riches of thy grace,

Thou brother in adversity !

Ye trav’llers in this wilderness,

Who somewhat of his beauty see,
For ever, oh! for ever bless
This brother in adversity ?

ANON.

LONGING FOR HEAVEN.

WHEN on the verge of life I stand,
And view the scene on either hand,
My spirit struggles with its clay,
And longs to wing its flight away.

Where Jesus dwells my soul would be, It faints my much-lov'd Lord to see; Earth, twine no more about my heart, For 'tis far better to depart.

Come, ye angelic envoys, come,
And lead the willing pilgrim home;
Ye know the way to Jesu's throne,
Source of my joys, and of our own.

That blessed interview, how sweet!
To fall transported at his feet,
Rais'd in his arms to view his face,
Thro' the full beamings of his grace.

As with a seraph's voice to sing,
To fly as on a cherub's wing,
Performing with unwearied hands
A parent Saviour's high commands.
Yet, with these prospects full in sight,
I'll wait thy signal for my flight;
For while thy service I pursue,
I find my heaven begun below.

THE HEAVENLY REST.

There is an hour of peaceful rest

To mourning wand'rers given; There is a tear for souls distress'd A balm for every wounded breast;

'Tis found above in heaven!

There is a soft, a downy bed,

'Tis fair as breath of even; A couch for weary mortals spread, Where they may rest the aching head,

And find repose in heaven!

There is a home for weary souls

By sin and sorrow driven; When toss'd on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,

And all is drear-'tis heaven!

There faith lifts up the tearful eye,

The heart with anguish riven; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene in heaven!

I 3

There fragrant flow'rs immortal bloom,

And joys supreme are given;
There rays divine disperse the gloom;
Beyond the confines of the tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven !

TAPPAN.

THE SAINT IN HEAVEN.

Escap'd from earth, I'm tried no more;
Life's hard probation now is o’er;
I've joined the assembly of the blest;
Zion I've reach'd, and now I rest.
Ah! the sweet peace that fills my soul !
But how shall I express the whole ?
Eternity itself will fail
To sound its depth, or to reveal
How blest I am! what joy I feel!
Salvation to th' eternal King,
With saints in white I ceaseless sing.
I see the Lamb; and oh, the bliss !
No joy in heaven doth equal this ;
But God himself, the Spirit too,
Unveil their glories to my view.
Rapt with delight, my joys above
No end shall have for God is love!

« BLESSED ARE THE DEAD THAT DIE IN THE

LORD."

Hark! a voice, it cries from heav'n,

Happy in the Lord who die;
Happy they to whom 'tis given

From a world of grief to fly!

They indeed are truly blest;
From their labours then they rest.

All their toils and conflicts over,

Lo! they dwell with Christ above;
Oh! what glories they discover
In the Saviour whom they love!

Now they see him face to face,
Him who sav'd them by his grace.

"Tis enough, enough for ever,

"Tis his people's bright reward,
They are blest indeed who never
Shall be absent from their Lord !

Oh! that we may die like those
Who in Jesus then repose !

KELLY.

BOSTOVORARY

THE END

« PreviousContinue »