806 L. M. And dying is but going home.
Now let our souls, on wings sublime, Rise from the vanities of time, Draw back the parting vail, and see The glories of eternity.
2 Born by new, celestial birth, Why should we grovel here on earth? Why grasp at vain and fleeting toys, So near to heaven’s eternal joys?
3 Shall aught beguile us on the road, While 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; And the sweet expectation now Is the young dawn of heaven below.
807 L. M. That I may win Christ. Phil. 3:8.
Jesus, my love, my chief delight, For thee I long, for thee I pray, Amid the shadows of the night, Amid the business of the day.
2 When shall I see thy smiling face, That face which I have often seen? Arise, thou Sun of Righteousness! Scatter the clouds that intervene.
3 Thou art the glorious gift of God, To sinners weary and distressed; The first of all his gifts bestowed, And certain pledge of all the rest.
4 Since I can say this gift is mine, I’ll tread the world beneath my feet, No more at poverty repine, Nor envy the rich sinner’s state.
808 L. M. Col. 3:3, 4.
What sinners value I resign, Lord! ’tis enough that thou art mine; I shall behold thy blissful face, And stand complete in righteousness.
2 This life’s a dream, an empty show; But the bright world to which I go Has joys substantial and sincere: When shall I wake and find me there?
3 O glorious hour! O blest abode! I shall be near and like my God! And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul.
4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground Till the last trumpet’s joyful sound; Then burst the chains with sweet surprise, And in my Saviour’s image rise.
809 L. M. Search me, God, and know my heart. Psalm 139:23.
O thou, to whose all-searching sight The darkness shineth as the light, Search, prove my heart, it pants for thee; O, burst these bonds, and set it free.
2 Wash out its stains, refine its dross; Nail my affections to the cross; Hallow each thought; let all within Be clean, as thou, my Lord, art clean.
3 If in this darksome wild I stray, Be thou my light, be thou my way; No foes, no violence I fear, No fraud, while thou, my God, art near.
4 When rising floods my soul o’erflow, When sinks my heart in waves of woe— Jesus, thy timely aid impart, And raise my head and cheer my heart.
5 Saviour, where’er thy steps I see, Dauntless, untired, I follow thee; O, let thy hand support me still, And lead me to thy holy hill.
810 L. M. That they be with me where I am. John 17:24.
Let me be with thee where thou art, My Saviour, my eternal Rest! Then only will this longing heart Be fully and for ever blest!
2 Let me be with thee where thou art, Where spotless saints thy name adore; Then only will this sinful heart Be evil and defiled no more!
3 Let me be with thee where thou art, Where none can die, where none remove; There neither death nor life will part Me from thy presence and thy love!
811 C. M. A new heart.
O for a heart to praise my God, A heart from sin set free, A heart that always feels the blood So freely shed for me.
2 A heart resigned, submissive, meek, My great Redeemer’s throne, Where only Christ is heard to speak Where Jesus reigns alone.
3 O for a lowly, contrite heart, Confiding, true, and clean, Which neither life nor death can part From him that dwells within.
4 A heart in ev’ry thought renewed, And full of love divine, Perfect and right, and pure and good, A copy, Lord, of thine.
5 Thy Spirit, gracious Lord, impart; Direct me from above; May thy dear name be near my heart, That dear, best name is Love.
812 C. M. Longing for Heaven.
Sweet land of rest, for thee I sigh, When will the moment come, When I shall lay my armor by, And dwell in peace at home?
Chorus.—O, this is not my home, O, this is not my home: This world’s a wilderness of woe, This world is not my home.
2 No tranquil joy on earth I know, No peaceful, sheltering dome; This world’s a wilderness of woe, This world is not my home.
3 When by affliction sharply tried, I view the gaping tomb, Although I dread death’s chilling tide, Yet still I sigh for home.
4 Weary of wandering round and round This vale of sin and gloom, I long to quit the unhallowed ground, And dwell with Christ at home.