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C. M. 661.
WATTS. A Prospect of Heaven. i By glimmering hopes and gloomy fears
We trace the sacred road; Through dismal deeps and dangerous snares
We make our way to God.
2 Long nights and darkness dwell below,
With scarce a twinkling ray;
Is everlasting day.
Inviting us to come;
To welcome travellers home.
4 There, on a green and flowery mount,
Our weary souls shall sit,
The labors of our feet.
i Let faith arise, and climb the hills,
And from afar descry
And tell how fast they fly.
The dawn of heaven appears;
Its blushes round the spheres.
And Aaming guards around; 'The skies divide to make him room,
The trumpet shakes the ground. 4 I hear the voice, “ Ye dead, arise!”
And lo! the graves obey, And waking saints, with joyful eyes,
Salute the expected day.
1 There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain. 2 There, everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dressed in living green; So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between.
To cross this narrow sea,
And fear to launch away.
Those gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love, With unbeclouded
eyes, – 6 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
For ever with the Lord.
So, Father, let it be;
'T is immortality.
Absent from thee I roam;
A day's march nearer home.
Home of my soul, how near
Thy golden gates appear!
I hear at morn and even,
At noon and midnight hour,
Earth's Babel-tongues o'erpower.
Remembered or forgot,
MRS. STEELE. Looking at Things unseen. 1 Why should the world's alluring toys
Detain our hearts and eyes,
And strangers to the skies? . These transient scenes will soon decay,
They fade upon the sight;
Be lost in endless night.
Above these gloomy shades,
Which sorrow ne'er invades!
Or reason's feeble ray,
Unconscious of decay.
To guide our upward aim;
Our languid hearts inflame.
i When all the hours of life are past,
And death's dark shadow falls at last,
’T is glory opening to the blest.
To radiant mansions in the skies,
Like his, divinely fair and bright.
With those of spirits blest as theirs ;
From suns that never more go down. 4 No storms shall ride the troubled air,
No sounds of passion enter there;
Of evening gales that breathe and die. 5 There, parted friends again shall meet,
In union holy, calm, and sweet;
MONTGOMERY. Friends separated by Death. | 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 final rest, Living or dying, none were blest.