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Lead back the wanderer to the Saviour's fold;
CHAT grace, O Lord, and beauty shone
Around thy steps below; What patient love was seen in all
Thy life and death of woe!
A weight of sorrow hung;
Escaped thy silent tongue.
Thy friends unfaithful prove;
Thy heart could only love.
Like thee, O Lord, to grieve
The wrongs that we receive.
One with thyself, may every eye
In us, thy brethren, see
From union, Lord, with thee. 223
THY should this earth delight us so ?
Why should we fix our eyes
And every pleasure dies ?
Our comforts to destroy,
A world of endless joy.
The sun must end his race,
When the last trumpet sound,
From underneath the ground ? 224
(HEN I can read my title clear
so mansions in the skies,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
And hellish darts be hurid,
And face a frowning world.
Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall;
My God, my heaven, my all!
In seas of heavenly rest,
Across my peaceful breast. 225
THAT sinners value I resign:
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And in my Saviour's image rise. 226
E’VE no abiding city here,”
“We've no abiding city here," Sad truth, were this to be our home; But let the thought our spirits cheer, “ We seek a city yet to come.” We've no abiding city here," Then let us live as pilgrims do; Let not the world our rest appear, But let us haste from all below. “We've no abiding city here,” We seek a city out of sight, Zion its name, the Lord is there, It shines with everlasting light. “We've no abiding city here,” Methinks I hear the worldling say, “Your hope is vain, ye fools, forbear, For pleasure lies another way.” No wonder men should reason thus, And count our expectations vain; But did they know the truth like us, They would adopt another strain. Did they, like us, by faith discern The glorious city of our God, They too, like us, would quickly learn To walk in Zion's heav'nly road. Zion! Jehovah is her strength! Secure she smiles at all her foes; And weary travellers at length Within her sacred walls repose. O sweet abode of peace and love, Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest ! Had I the pinions of the dove, I'd fly to thee, and be at rest.
But hush, my soul, nor dare repine !
And his to fix my time of rest. 227
HO is as the Christian great ?
Crowns he sees beneath his feet,
Soars aloft and walks with God. Who is as the Christian wise ?
He for gold his dross hath given, Bought the Pearl of greatest price,
Nobly barter'd earth for heaven. Who is as the Christian blest?
Praises well his lips employ; His the calm within the breast,
Earnest of his promised joy. Lo, he feeds on living bread,
Drinks the fountain from above, Leans on Jesu's breast his head,
Feasts for ever on his love. Angels here his servants are,
Spread for him their golden wings, To his throne of glory bear,
Seat him by the King of kings.
Thy people still are fed ;