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2 And thou, refulgent orb of day, In brighter flames arrayed,

My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere, No more demands thine aid.

3 Ye stars are but the shining dust Of my divine abode,

The pavement of those heavenly courts, Where I shall reign with God.

4 The Father of eternal light

Shall there His beams display;
Nor shall one moment's darkness mix
With that unvaried day.

5 No more the drops of piercing grief
Shall swell into my eyes;
Nor the meridian sun decline
Amidst those brighter skies.

6 There all the millions of His saints
Shall in one song unite,

And each the bliss of all shall view
With infinite delight.

628 Col. iii. 1, 2.

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NO

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OW let our souls on wings sublime, Rise from the vanities of time, Draw back the parting veil and see The glories of eternity.

2 Born by a new celestial birth,

Why should we grovel here on earth?
Why grasp at transitory toys,
So near to heaven's eternal joys?

3 Shall aught beguile us on the road,
When we are walking back to God?
For strangers into life we come,
And dying is but going home.

4 Welcome, sweet hour of full discharge, That sets our longing souls at large; Unbinds our chains, breaks up our cell, And gives us with our God to dwell. 5 To dwell with God, to feel His love, Is the full heaven enjoyed above; Sweet is the expectation now,

It is the dawn of heaven below.

629

1

A

1 Cor. xiii. 12. C. M.

FAWCETT.

S through a glass we dimly see
Thy wonders, God of love;
How little do we know of Thee,
Or of the joys above!

2 'Tis but in part we know Thy will,
We bless Thee for the sight;
And wait till Thou the rest reveal,
In glory's clearer light.

3 With rapture shall we then survey
Thy providence and grace,
And spend an everlasting day,
In wonder, love, and praise.

630

1

1 John iii. 1, 2. S. M.

WATTS.

BEHOLD, what wondrous grace

The Father has bestowed

On sinners of a mortal race,

To call them sons of God.

2

"Tis no surprising thing

3

That we should be unknown;

The Jewish world knew not their King

God's everlasting Son.

Nor doth it yet appear

How great we must be made;

But when we see our Saviour here,

We shall be like our Head.

4

A hope so much divine
May trials well endure,

May purge our souls from sense and sin,
As Christ the Lord is pure.

5 If in my Father's love

I share a filial part,

Send down Thy Spirit like a dove,
To rest upon my heart.

6 We would no longer lie

Like slaves beneath the throne; My faith shall Abba, Father, cry, And Thou the kindred own.

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ROM Thee, my God, my joys shall rise,
And run eternal rounds,

Beyond the limits of the skies,

And all created bounds.

2 The holy triumphs of my soul
Shall death itself outbrave,
Leave dull mortality behind,
And fly beyond the grave.

3 There, where my blessed Jesus reigns,
In heaven's unmeasured space,
I'll spend a long eternity

In pleasure and in praise.
4 Millions of years my wondering eyes
Shall o'er Thy beauties rove,

And endless ages I'll adore
The glories of Thy love.

632

1

James iv. 14. 8.7.8.7.7.7. KELLY. HAT is life? 'tis but a vapour,

W Soon it vanishes away:

Life is like a dying taper;
O, my soul, why wish to stay?
Why not spread thy wings, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy?

2 See that glory, how resplendent!
Brighter far than fancy paints;
There in majesty transcendent,
Jesus reigns, the King of saints:
Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

3 Joyful crowds His throne surrounding,
Sing with rapture of His love:

Through the heavens its praises sounding,
Filling all the courts above:

Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

4 Go, and share His people's glory,
'Midst the ransomed crowd appear;
Thine a joyful, wondrous story,
One that angels love to hear:
Spread thy wings, my soul, and fly
Straight to yonder world of joy.

633 Phil. i. 21.

C. M. G. NOEL.

1 W And mourns the present pain;

HEN musing sorrow weeps the past,

How sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain!

2 "Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father's will;
'Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still.

3 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.

4 It is that hope with ardour glows,
To see Him face to face,

Whose dying love no language knows
Sufficient art to trace.

5 It is that harassed conscience feels
The pangs of struggling sin;
Sees, though afar, the hand that heals,
And ends her war within.

6 O let me wing my hallowed flight
From earth-born woe and care,

And soar beyond these realms of night,
My Saviour's bliss to share.

634

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2

3

4

5

1 Thess. iv. 17. S. M. MONTGOMERY.

FOR

ever with the Lord! Amen, so let it be :

Life from the dead is in that word; "Tis immortality.

Here in the body pent,

Absent from Him I roam;

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent,
A day's march nearer home.

My Father's house on high,
Home of my soul, how near!
At times, to faith's foreseeing eye
Thy golden gates appear.

My thirsty spirit faints

To reach the land I love,

The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above.

I hear at morn and even,

At noon and midnight hour,
The choral harmonies of heaven,
Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower.

6 For ever with the Lord!

Father, if 'tis Thy will,

The promise of that faithful word,
E'en here to me fulfil.

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