Part 20

1 Jerusalem! my glorious home! Name ever dear to me! When shall my labors have an end In joy, and peace and thee? When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And pearly gates behold? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, And streets of shining gold.

2 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know: Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes I onward press to you. Why should I shrink at pain and woe? Or feel at death dismay? I've Canaan's goodly land in view, And realms of endless day.

3 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there, Around my Saviour stand; And soon my friends in Christ below Will join the glorious band. Jerusalem! my glorious home! My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end, When I thy joys shall see.

559. S. M. Mrs. Steele.

Heaven.

1 Far from these scenes of night Unbounded glories rise, And realms of infinite delight, Unknown to mortal eyes.

2 No cloud those regions know, Forever bright and fair; For sin, the source of mortal woe, Can never enter there.

3 There night is never known, Nor sun's faint, sickly ray; But glory from th' eternal throne Spreads everlasting day.

4 O may this prospect fire Our hearts with ardent love! And lively faith and strong desire Bear every thought above.

560. L. M. Anonymous.

The World to Come.

1 There is a world we have not seen, That wasting time can ne'er destroy, Where mortal footstep hath not been, Nor ear hath caught its sounds of joy.

2 That world to come! and O how blest!-- Fairer than prophets ever told; And never did an angel-guest One half its blessedness unfold.

3 It is all holy and serene,-- The land of glory and repose; And there, to dim the radiant scene, No tear of sorrow ever flows.

4 It is not fanned by summer gale; 'Tis not refreshed by vernal showers; It never needs the moon-beam pale, For there are known no evening hours.

5 There forms unseen by mortal eye, Too glorious for our sight to bear, Are walking with their God on high, And waiting our arrival there.

561. C. M. H. Ballou.

Heavenly Zion.

1 Behold, on Zion's heavenly shore, A pure and countless band, Whose conflicts and whose toils are o'er, In glorious order stand.

2 From earth's remotest bounds they came, From tribulations great, And, through the victories of the Lamb, Have reached the heavenly state.

3 Hunger and thirst they know no more, From burning heats refreshed; The Lamb shall feed them from his store, And give them endless rest.

4 God all their tears shall wipe away, And they his wonders tell, While in his temple they shall stay, And God with them shall dwell.

562. 7s. M. Raffles.

The Saints in Glory.

1 High, in yonder realms of light, Dwell the raptured saints above, Far beyond our feeble sight, Happy in Immanuel's love.

2 Happy spirits, ye are fled Where no grief can entrance find, Lulled to rest the aching head, Soothed the anguish of the mind.

3 'Mid the chorus of the skies, 'Mid the angelic lyres above Hark! their songs melodious rise,-- Songs of praise to Jesus' love.

563. S. M. R. Palmer.

Heavenly Rest.

1 And is there, Lord, a rest, For weary souls designed, Where not a care shall stir the breast, Or sorrow entrance find?

2 Is there a blissful home, Where kindred minds shall meet, And live and love, nor ever roam From that serene retreat?

3 Forever blesséd they, Whose joyful feet shall stand, While endless ages waste away, Amid that glorious land.

4 My soul would thither tend, While toilsome years are given; Then let me, gracious God, ascend To sweet repose in heaven.

564. L. M. Anonymous.

The Better Land.

1 There is a land mine eye hath seen, In visions of enraptured thought So bright that all which spreads between Is with its radiant glory fraught;--

2 A land upon whose blissful shore There rests no shadow, falls no stain; There those who meet shall part no more, And those long parted meet again.

3 Its skies are not like earthly skies, With varying hues of shade and light; It hath no need of suns to rise, To dissipate the gloom of night.

4 There sweeps no desolating wind Across that calm, serene abode; The wanderer there a home may find, Within the paradise of God.

565. C. H. M. Sacred Lyrics.

The Everlasting Bliss of Heaven.

1 Heaven is the land where troubles cease, Where toils and tears are o'er;-- The blissful clime of rest and peace, Where cares distract no more; And not the shadow of distress Dims its unsullied blessedness.

2 Heaven is the dwelling-place of joy, The home of light and love, Where faith and hope in rapture die, And ransomed souls above Enjoy, before th' eternal throne, Bliss everlasting and unknown.

MOURNING AND CONSOLATION.

566. L. M. Bryant.

"Blessed are they that mourn."

1 Deem not that they are blessed alone, Whose days a peaceful tenor keep; The God, who loves our race, has shown A blessing for the eyes that weep.

2 The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears, And weary hours of woe and pain Are earnests of serener years.

3 O, there are days of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night! Grief may abide, an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.

4 And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier Sheddest the bitter drops like rain, Hope that a brighter, happier sphere Will give him to thy arms again.

5 For God hath marked each anguished day, And numbered every secret tear; And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay For all his children suffer here.

567. 12s. & 11s. M. Heber.

Farewell to a Friend Departed.

1 Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee; Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee; And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

2 Thou art gone to the grave; we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side: But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, since the Saviour hath died.

3 Thou art gone to the grave; and, its mansion forsaking, Perchance thy weak spirit in doubt lingered long; But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking, And the sound thou didst hear was the seraphim's song.

4 Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee; Since God was thy Refuge, thy Guardian, thy Guide; He gave thee, he took thee, and he will restore thee; And death has no sting, since the Saviour hath died.

568. C. M. Barbauld.

The Mourner's Thoughts of Heaven.

1 Not for the pious dead we weep; Their sorrows now are o'er; The sea is calm, the tempest past, On that eternal shore.

2 O, might some dream of visioned bliss, Some trance of rapture, show Where, on the bosom of their God, They rest from human woe!

3 Thence may their pure devotion's flame On us, on us descend; To us their strong aspiring hopes, Their faith, their fervors lend.

4 Let these our shadowy path illume, And teach the chastened mind To welcome all that's left of good, To all that's lost resigned.

569. L. M. Norton.

Blessedness of the Pious Dead.

1 O, stay thy tears; for they are blest, Whose days are past, whose toil is done: Here midnight care disturbs our rest; Here sorrow dims the noonday sun.

2 How blest are they whose transient years Pass like an evening meteor's flight! Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears; Whose course is short, unclouded, bright.

3 O, cheerless were our lengthened way; But Heaven's own light dispels the gloom, Streams downward from eternal day, And casts a glory round the tomb.

4 O, stay thy tears: the blest above Have hailed a spirit's heavenly birth, And sung a song of joy and love; Then why should anguish reign on earth?

570. S. M. Mrs. Sigourney.

"Weep for yourselves, and for your children."

1 We mourn for those who toil, The slave who ploughs the main, Or him who hopeless tills the soil Beneath the stripe and chain: For those who, in the race, O'erwearied and unblest, A host of restless phantoms chase;-- Why mourn for those who rest?

2 We mourn for those who sin? Bound in the tempter's snare, Whom syren pleasure beckons in To prisons of despair; Whose hearts, by passions torn, Are wrecked on folly's shore;-- But why in sorrow should we mourn For those who sin no more?

3 We mourn for those who weep; Whom stern afflictions bend With anguish o'er the lowly sleep Of lover or of friend: But they to whom the sway Of pain and grief is o'er, Whose tears our God hath wiped away, O mourn for them no more!

571. L. M. W. J. Loring.

"Weep not for me!"

1 Why weep for those, frail child of woe, Who've fled and left thee mourning here? Triumphant o'er their latest foe, They glory in a brighter sphere.

2 Weep not for them;--beside thee now Perhaps they watch with guardian care, And witness tears that idly flow O'er those who bliss of angels share.

3 Or round their Father's throne, above, With raptured voice his praise they sing; Or on his messages of love, They journey with unwearied wing.

4 Weep, weep no more; their voices raise The song of triumph high to God; And wouldst thou join their song of praise, Walk humbly in the path they trod.

572. S. H. M. Montgomery.

Friends die, but to live again.

1 Friend after friend departs; Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end. Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying, none were blest.

2 There is a world above, Where parting is unknown,-- A whole eternity of love And blessedness alone; And faith beholds the dying here, Translated to that happier sphere.

3 Thus, star by star declines Till all are passed away, As morning high and higher shines To pure and perfect day. Nor sink those stars in empty night-- They hide themselves in heaven's own light.

573. C. M. Anonymous.

Hope of Reunion above.

1 When floating on life's troubled sea, By storms and tempests driven, Hope, with her radiant finger, points To brighter scenes in heaven.

2 She bids the storms of life to cease, The troubled breast be calm; And in the wounded heart she pours Religion's healing balm.

3 Her hallowed influence cheers life's hours Of sadness and of gloom; She guides us through this vale of tears, To joys beyond the tomb.

4 She bids the anguished heart rejoice: Though earthly ties are riven, We still may hope to meet again In yonder peaceful heaven.

574. C. M. Watts.

Comfort under Bereavements.

1 Why do we mourn departed friends, Or shake at death's alarms? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends To call them to his arms.

2 Why should we tremble to convey Their bodies to the tomb? There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, And left a long perfume.

3 The graves of all his saints he blest, And softened every bed: Where should the dying members rest, But with their dying Head?

575. 11s. & 10s. M. Spiritual Songs.

Invitation to the Mercy-seat.

1 Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish; Come, at the mercy-seat fervently kneel: Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

2 Joy of the desolate, light of the straying, Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure, Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying, Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.

576. 7s. M. J. H. Bancroft.

The Christian's Burial.

1 Brother, though from yonder sky Cometh neither voice nor cry, Yet we know for thee to-day Every pain hath passed away.

2 Not for thee shall tears be given, Child of God and heir of heaven; For he gave thee sweet release; Thine the Christian's death of peace.

3 Well we know thy living faith Had the power to conquer death; As a living rose may bloom By the border of the tomb.

4 While we weep as Jesus wept, Thou shall sleep as Jesus slept: With thy Saviour thou shalt rest, Crowned, and glorified and blest.

577. C. M. Anonymous.

Peaceful Death of the Righteous.

1 I looked upon the righteous man, And saw his parting breath, Without a struggle or a sigh, Serenely yield to death: There was no anguish on his brow, Nor terror in his eye; The spoiler aimed a fatal dart, But lost the victory.

2 I looked upon the righteous man, And heard the holy prayer Which rose above that breathless form, To soothe the mourners' care, And felt how precious was the gift He to his loved ones gave,-- The stainless memory of the just, The wealth beyond the grave.

3 I looked upon the righteous man; And all our earthly trust Of pleasure, vanity, or pride, Seemed lighter than the dust, Compared with his celestial gain,-- A home above the sky: O, grant us, Lord, his life to live, That we like him may die.

578. L. M. Fergus.

At a Funeral.

1 Farewell! what power of words can tell The sorrows of a last farewell, When, standing by the mournful bier, We mingle with our prayers a tear!

2 When memory tells of days gone by, Of blighted hope and vanished joy: Bright hopes that withered like a flower, Cut down and faded in an hour.

3 Give forth thy chime, thou solemn bell, Thou grave, unfold thy marble cell; Oh earth! receive upon thy breast The weary trav'ller to his rest.

4 Oh God, extend thy arms of love, A spirit seeketh thee above! Ye heav'nly palaces unclose, Receive the weary to repose!

579. C. M. L. H. Sigourney.

Burial of a Friend.

1 As, bowed by sudden storms, the rose Sinks on the garden's breast, Down to the grave our brother goes, In silence there to rest.

2 No more with us his tuneful voice The hymn of praise shall swell; No more his cheerful heart rejoice When peals the Sabbath bell.

3 Yet, if, in yonder cloudless sphere Amid a sinless throng, He utters in his Saviour's ear The everlasting song,--

4 No more we'll mourn the absent friend, But lift our earnest prayer, And daily every effort bend To rise and join him there.

580. C. M. Houghton.

The Re-union of Friends after Death.

1 Blest be the hour when friends shall meet, Shall meet to part no more, And with celestial welcome greet, On an immortal shore.

2 Sweet hope, deep cherished, not in vain, Now art thou richly crowned! All that was dead revives again; All that was lost is found!

3 The parent eyes his long-lost child; Brothers on brothers gaze: The tear of resignation mild Is changed to joy and praise.

4 And while remembrance, lingering still, Draws joy from sorrowing hours; New prospects rise, new pleasures fill The soul's capacious powers.

5 Their Father fans their generous flame, And looks complacent down; The smile that owns their filial claim Is their immortal crown.

581. L. M. Anonymous.

"Not lost, but gone before."

1 Say, why should friendship grieve for those Who safe arrive on Canaan's shore? Released from all their hurtful foes, They are not lost--but gone before.

2 How many painful days on earth Their fainting spirits numbered o'er! Now they enjoy a heavenly birth; They are not lost--but gone before.

3 Dear is the spot where Christians sleep, And sweet the strain which angels pour; O why should we in anguish weep? They are not lost--but gone before.

582. L. M. Epis. Coll.

Death of an Infant.

1 As the sweet flower that scents the morn, But withers in the rising day, Thus lovely was this infant's dawn, Thus swiftly fled its life away.

2 It died ere its expanding soul Had ever burnt with wrong desires, Had ever spurned at Heaven's control, Or ever quenched its sacred fires.

3 Yet the sad hour that took the boy Perhaps has spared a heavier doom,-- Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy, Or from the pangs of ills to come.

4 He died to sin; he died to care; But for a moment felt the rod; Then, rising on the viewless air, Spread his light wings, and soared to God.

583. L. M. Steele.

The Same.

1 So fades the lovely, blooming flower, Frail, smiling solace of an hour; So soon our transient comforts fly, And pleasure only blooms to die.

2 Is there no kind, no healing art, To soothe the anguish of the heart? Spirit of grace, be ever nigh: Thy comforts are not made to die.

3 Let gentle patience smile on pain, Till dying hope revives again; Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye, And faith points upward to the sky.

584. C. M. Steele.

Death of a Child.

1 Life is a span,--a fleeting hour: How soon the vapor flies! Man is a tender, transient flower, That e'en in blooming dies.

2 The once-loved form, now cold and dead, Each mournful thought employs; And nature weeps, her comforts fled, And withered all her joys.

3 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time, When what we now deplore Shall rise in full, immortal prime, And bloom to fade no more.

4 Cease, then, fond nature, cease thy tears; Thy Saviour dwells on high; There everlasting spring appears; There joy shall never die.

585. 7s. & 6s. M. Anonymous.

Children in Heaven.

1 In the broad fields of heaven,-- In the immortal bowers, By life's clear river dwelling, Amid undying flowers,-- There hosts of beauteous spirits, Fair children of the earth, Linked in bright bands celestial, Sing of their human birth.

2 They sing of earth and heaven,-- Divinest voices rise To God, their gracious Father, Who called them to the skies: They all are there,--in heaven,-- Safe, safe, and sweetly blest; No cloud of sin can shadow Their bright and holy rest.

586. S. M. Wilson.

Death of a Young Girl.

1 What though the stream be dead, Its banks all still and dry! It murmurs o'er a lovelier bed, In air-groves of the sky.

2 What though our bird of light Lie mute with plumage dim; In heaven I see her glancing bright, I hear her angel hymn.

3 True that our beauteous doe Hath left her still retreat, But purer now in heavenly snow, She lies at Jesus' feet.

4 O star! untimely set! Why should we weep for thee! Thy bright and dewy coronet Is rising o'er the sea.

587. 7s. M. Anonymous.

Dirge for an Infant.

1 Lay her gently in the dust; Grievous task, but oh! ye must! Hear the sentence, "earth to earth, Spirit to immortal birth;" Youthful, gentle, undefiled, Angels nurture now the child!

2 Upward soaring, like the dove, Bearing with her chains of love; Not to draw her spirit back, But to smooth her upward track: Her, the youngest of thy fold, Angels watch with love untold!

3 With the Rock of Ages trust, That which was enshrined in dust; Robed in ever-spotless white, In an atmosphere of light, By the never-failing springs Rests she now her weary wings.

588. C. M. H. Bacon.

Death of a Child.

1 Thou gavest, and we yield to thee, God of the human heart! For bitter though grief's cup may be, Thou givest but our part.

2 O, thou canst bid our grief be stilled, Yet not rebuke our tears; How large a place his presence filled! How vacant it appears!

3 We mourn the sunshine of his smile, The tendrils of his love; Oh, was he loved too well the while Ere he was called above?

4 Our chastened spirits bow in prayer, And blend all prayers in one,-- Give us the hope to meet him there, When life's full task is done.

589. C. M. Mrs. Hemans.

Death of the Young.

1 Calm on the bosom of thy God, Young spirit, rest thee now! E'en while with us thy footsteps trod His seal was on thy brow.

2 Dust, to its narrow house beneath! Soul, to its place on high! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.

3 Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers, Whence thy meek smile is gone; But O, a brighter home than ours, In heaven is now thine own.

590. 8s. & 7s. M. S. F. Smith.

Death of a Young Girl.

1 Sister, thou wast mild and lovely, Gentle as the summer breeze, Pleasant as the air of evening, When it floats among the trees.

2 Peaceful be thy silent slumber-- Peaceful in the grave so low: Thou no more wilt join our number; Thou no more our songs shalt know.

3 Dearest sister, thou hast left us; Here thy loss we deeply feel; But 'tis God that hath bereft us: He can all our sorrows heal.

4 Yet again we hope to meet thee, When the day of life is fled, Then in heaven with joy to greet thee, Where no farewell tear is shed.

591. 8s. & 7s. M. Bap. Memorial.

Burial of a Christian Brother.

1 Brother, rest from sin and sorrow; Death is o'er and life is won; On thy slumber dawns no morrow: Rest; thine earthly race is run.

2 Brother, wake; the night is waning; Endless day is round thee poured; Enter thou the rest remaining For the people of the Lord.

3 Brother, wake; for he who loved thee,-- He who died that thou mightst live,-- He who graciously approved thee,-- Waits thy crown of joy to give.

4 Fare thee well; though woe is blending With the tones of earthly love, Triumph high and joy unending Wait thee in the realms above.

592. 10s. M. Montgomery.

Death of a Christian in his prime.