5. Our hearts are breaking now
Those mansions fair to see;
O Lord! Thy heavens bow,
And raise us up with Thee
To the new Jerusalem.

1263.

7s & 6s.

CH. BEECHER.

1. We shall see a light appear,
By and by, when He comes;
We shall see Him full and clear,
By and by, when He comes;
Ride on, Jesus, O ride on!
We are on our journey home.

2. We shall have a mighty shout,
By and by, when He comes;
We shall like the stars shine out,
By and by, when He comes.

Ride on, Jesus, etc.

3. Then shall blaze earth's funeral pyre,
By and by, when He comes;
We shall shout above the fire,
By and by when He comes.

1264.

Ride on, Jesus, etc.

11s.

1. 'MID scenes of confusion, and creature complaints, How sweet to my soul is communion with saints; To find at the banquet of mercy there's room, And feel in the presence of Jesus at home.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home;

Prepare me, dear Saviour, for glory, my home.

2. Sweet bonds that unite all the children of peace! And thrice precious Jesus, whose love can not cease! Though oft from Thy presence in calmness I roam, I long to behold Thee in glory, at home.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

3. I sigh from this body of sin to be free,

Which hinders my joy and communion with Thee;
Though now my temptation like billows may foam,
All, all will be peace, when I'm with Thee at home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

4. While here in the valley of conflict I stay,
O give me submission, and strength as my day;
In all my afflictions to Thee would I come,
Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

5. Whate'er Thou deniest, O give me Thy grace,
The Spirit's sure witness, and smiles of Thy face,
Endue me with patience to wait at Thy throne,
And find, even now, a sweet foretaste of home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

6. I long, dearest Lord, in Thy beauties to shine;
No more as an exile in sorrow to pine;
And in Thy dear image arise from the tomb,
With glorified millions to praise Thee at home,
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

1. O WHERE can the soul find relief from its foes?
A shelter of safety, a home of repose?

Can earth's highest summit, or deepest hid vale,
Give a refuge, nor sorrow, nor sin can assail?
No, no! there's no home!

There's no home on earth-the soul has no home.

2. Shall it leave the low earth, and soar to the sky,
And seek for a home in the mansions on high?
In the bright realms of bliss with a dwelling be
given,

And the soul find a home in the glory of heaven?
Yes, yes! there's a home!

There's a home in high heaven-the soul has a
home.

3. O! holy and sweet its rest shall be there!
Free forever from sin, and from sorrow and care;
And the loud hallelujahs of angels shall rise,
To welcome the soul to its home in the skies!
Home, home!-home of the soul!

The bosom of God is the home of the soul!
DEODATUS DUTTON.

1. My home is in heaven, my rest is not here,
Then why should I murmur when trials appear?
Be hushed, my dark spirit, the worst that can come,
But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home.
2. It is not for thee to be seeking thy bliss,

And building thy hopes in a region like this;
I look for a city which hands have not piled;
I pant for a country by sin undefiled.

3. The thorn and the thistle around me may grow,
I would not recline upon roses below;

I ask not my portion, I seek not my rest,
Till I find them forever on Jesus' breast.

12s & 11s.

1267.
1. How sweet to reflect on the joys that await me
In yon blissful region, the haven of rest,
Where glorified spirits with welcome shall greet me,
And lead me to mansions prepared for the blest;
Encircled with light, and with glory enshrouded,
My happiness perfect, my mind's sky unclouded,
I'll bathe in the ocean of pleasure unbounded,

And range with delight through the Eden of Love. 2. While angelic legions, with harps tuned celestial, Harmoniously join in the concert of praise, The saints as they flock from the regions terrestrial, In loud hallelujahs their voices will raise; Then songs to the Lamb shall re-echo through heaven,

My soul will respond, To Immanuel bé given
All glory, all honor, all might and dominion,
Who brought us through grace to the Eden of
Love.

3. Then hail, blessed state! hail, ye songsters of glory!
Ye harpers of bliss, soon I'll meet you above!
And join your full choir in rehearsing the story,
"Salvation from sorrow, through Jesus' love;"
Though 'prisoned in earth, yet by anticipation,
Already my soul feels a sweet prelibation
Of joys that await me, when freed from probation,
My heart's now in Heaven, the Eden of Love.

1268.'

1269.

5s.

1. THERE's rest in the grave,
Life's toils are all past,
Night cometh at last:
How calmly I rest

In the sleep of the blest,
Nor hear life's storm rave
O'er my green, grassy grave.
2. No rest in the

grave-
Heaven's dawn purples fast,
Morn's splendors are cast
Like shafts through the gloom
Of the dark, silent tomb;
Heaven's fair bowers wave-
No rest in the grave!

3. Arise from the grave!

• Heaven's bright, burning throng

Come rushing along;
They gird me about,
And triumphant shout,
As myriad palms wave,
"Ascend from the grave."

P. M.

CH. BEECHER.

1. THERE is a happy land, far, far away,

Where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day.

O, how they sweetly sing,

Worthy is our Saviour King,
Loud let His praises ring,

Praise, praise for aye.

2. Come to that happy land, come, come away; Why will ye doubting stand, why still delay? Oh, we shall happy be,

When from sin and sorrow free!
Lord, we shall live with Thee,
Blest, blest for aye.

3. Bright, in that happy land, beams every eye;
Kept by a Father's hand, love can not die.
Oh, then to glory run;

1270.

Be a crown and kingdom won;
And bright, above the sun,
We reign for aye.

10s.

1. JOYFULLY, joyfully onward I move,
Bound to the land of bright spirits above;
Angelic choristers, sing as I come-
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home!
Soon with my pilgrimage ended below,
Home to the land of bright spirits I go;
Pilgrim and stranger no more shall I roam :
Joyfully, joyfully resting at home.

2. Friends, fondly cherished, but passed on before;
Waiting, they watch me approaching the shore;
Singing to cheer me thro' death's chilling gloom:
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home.

Sounds of sweet melody fall on my ear;
Harps of the blessed, your voices I hear!
Rings with the harmony heaven's high dome-
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home.

3. Death, with thy weapons of war lay me low,
Strike, king of terrors! I fear not the blow;
Jesus hath broken the bars of the tomb!
Joyfully, joyfully will I go home.

Bright will the morn of eternity dawn,
Death shall be banished, his scepter be gone;
Joyfully, then shall I witness his doom,
Joyfully, joyfully, safely at home.