813 C. M. The true riches.
You glittering toys of earth, adieu, A nobler choice be mine; A real prize attracts my view— A treasure all divine.
2 Away, unworthy of my cares, You specious baits of sense; Inestimable worth appears, The pearl of price immense!
3 Jesus to multitudes unknown— O name divinely sweet! Jesus, in thee, in thee alone, Wealth, honor, pleasure meet.
4 Should both the Indies, at my call, Their boasted stores resign, With joy I would renounce them all, For leave to call thee mine.
5 Should earth’s vain treasures all depart Of this dear gift possessed, I’d clasp it to my joyful heart, And be for ever blest.
6 Blest Sovereign of my soul’s desires, Thy love is bliss divine; Accept the praise that love inspires, Since I can call thee mine!
814 C. M. Where thou art is heaven.
Jesus hath died that I might live, Might live to God alone; In him eternal life receive, And be in spirit one,
2 My soul breaks out in strong desire The perfect bliss to prove; My longing heart is all on fire To be dissolved in love.
3 Give me thyself. From every boast From every wish, set free, Let all I am in thee be lost; But give thyself to me.
4 Thy gifts, alas! can not suffice, Unless thyself be given; Thy presence makes my Paradise, And where thou art, is heaven!
815 C. M. To them that look for him. Heb. 9:28.
Awake, you saints, and raise your eyes, And raise your voices high; Awake, and praise that sovereign love That shows salvation nigh.
2 On all the wings of time it flies; Each moment brings it near; Then welcome each declining day, Welcome each closing year!
3 Not many years their round shall run, Not many mornings rise, Ere all its glories stand revealed To our admiring eyes.
4 You wheels of nature, speed your course, You mortal powers, decay; Fast as you bring the night of death, You bring eternal day.
816 C. M. We are his workmanship. Eph. 2:10.
I am thy workmanship, O Lord! And unto thee belong; Thou art my shield, my Great Reward, My Glory, and my song.
2 Surround me with thy guardian might, Uphold me with thy grace; Unharmed, conduct me through the fight; Unwearied, through the race.
3 Make me a weapon of thy power, An angel of thy will; To thee devoted, let each hour Its happy task fulfill.
4 Yet dare not I, a child of dust Thus plead my filial claim, But as in him is all my trust, Who bears a Saviour’s name.
817 C. M. So great a cloud of witnesses. Heb. 12:1.
Give me the wings of faith, to rise Within the vail, and see The saints above, how great their joys How bright their glories be.
2 Once they were mourning here below, And bathed their couch with tears; They wrestled hard, as we do now, With sins, and doubts, and fears.
3 I ask them whence their victory came; They, with united breath, Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, Their triumph to his death.
4 They marked the footsteps that he trod; His zeal inspired their breast; And, following their incarnate God, Possessed the promised rest.
5 Our glorious Leader claims our praise, For his own pattern given; While the long cloud of witnesses Shows the same path to heaven.
818 C. M. O that I had wings like a dove. Psalm 55:6.
The dove, let loose in eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne’er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam;—
2 But high she shoots through air and light Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
3 So grant me, Lord, from every snare And stain of passion free, Aloft, through faith’s serener air, To urge my course to thee;—
4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay, My soul as home she springs; Thy sunshine on her joyful way Thy freedom on her wings.
819 C. M. D. Heaven is my home.
I have no resting-place on earth On which to fix my love; But O! my heart is yearning for The promised rest above. ’Tis true, this earth is passing fair, O’er which I sadly roam; But yet it hath no charms for me, For heavén is my home.
2 A pilgrim long I’ve wandered here; But, with a steadfast eye, I see a rest reserved for me, At God’s right hand on high, Then all the joys of earth in vain Shall tempt my feet to roam, To seek a dwelling-place below, Since heavén is my home.
3 O, were this earth as fair as when Primeval Eden smiled, I would not by its glowing charms Be from my hope beguiled; But I would seek a brighter world, Where God has bid me come: Then seek no more to bind me here, For heavén is my home.
820 C. M. The new Jerusalem.