Who through this weary pil- grim - age Hast all our fa.- ther's led;
2 We are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod:
They are happy now, and we
Soon their happiness shall see.
3 Shout, ye little flock, and blest,
You on Jesus' throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepared,
There your kingdom and reward.
4 Fear not, brethren, joyful stand
On the borders of your land;
Jesus Christ, your Father's Son,
Bids you undismayed go on.
5 Lord, obediently we go,
Gladly leaving all below;
Only Thou our Leader be,
And we still will follow Thee.
Rev. John Cennick (1717-1755), 1742. Ab.
BADEA. S. M.
1 Now begin the heavenly theme,
Sing aloud in Jesus' name;
Ye who Jesus' kindness prove,
Triumph in redeeming love.
2 Ye who see the Father's grace
Beaming in the Saviour's face,
As to Canaan on ye move,
Praise and bless redeeming love.
3 Mourning souls, dry up your tears;
Banish all your guilty fears;
See your guilt and curse remove,
Cancelled by redeeming love.
5 Hither, then, your music bring,
Strike aloud each joyful string;
Mortals, join the host above,
Join to praise redeeming love.
John Langford (
1. Your harps, ye trembling saints, Down from the willows take; Loud to
love di-vine Bid ev-'ry string a wake.
Weak Believers encouraged. 2 Though in a foreign land, We are not far from home;
And nearer to our house above
We every moment come.
3 His grace will to the end
Stronger and brighter shine;
Nor present things, nor things to come, Shall quench the spark divine.
4 Blest is the man, O God,
That stays himself on Thee; Who wait for Thy salvation, Lord, Shall Thy salvation see.
Rev. Augustus Montague Toplady (1740-1778), 1772. Ab.
"Time is winging us away."
1 TIME is winging us away
To our eternal home;
Life is but a winter's day,
A journey to the tomb;
Youth and vigor soon will flee,
Blooming beauty lose its charms;
All that's mortal soon shall be
Enclosed in death's cold arms.
2 Time is winging us away
To our eternal home;
Life is but a winter's day,
A journey to the tomb;
But the Christian shall enjoy
Health and beauty soon, above,
Far beyond the world's annoy,
Secure in Jesus' love.
John Burton (1773-1822), 1815.
1. He leadeth me, O blesséd thought, O words with heav'nly comfort fraught, What e'er I do, where
e'er I be, Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me, He leadeth me, He leadeth me, He leadeth me.
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