Jerusalem, my happy home, O how I long for thee! When will my sorrows have an end? Thy joys when shall I see?
2 Thy walls are all of precious stones, Most glorious to behold! Thy gates are richly set with pearl, Thy streets are paved with gold.
3 Thy gardens and thy pleasant greens My study long have been; Such sparkling gems by human sight Have never yet been seen.
4 If heavén be thus glorious, Lord, Why should I stay from thence? What folly ’tis that I should dread To die and go from hence!
5 Reach down, reach down thine arms of grace And cause me to ascend, Where congregations ne’er break up, And Sabbaths never end.
6 Jesus, my love, to glory’s gone; Him will I go and see; And all my brethren here below Will soon come after me.
821 C. M. A city which hath foundations. Heb. 11:10.
Jerusalem! my glorious home, Name ever dear to me! When shall my labors have an end, In joy, and peace, and thee!
2 When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And pearly gates behold? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, And streets of shining gold?
3 There happier bowers than Eden’s bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know: Blessed seats! through rude and stormy scenes I onward press to you!
4 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.
5 Apostles, martyrs, prophets there, Around my Saviour stand; And soon my friends in Christ below Will join the glorious band.
6 Jerusalem! my glorious home! My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end, When I thy joys shall see.
822 S. M. A brighter day.
Lord, we expect a day Still brighter far than this, When death shall bear our souls away, To realms of light and bliss.
2 There rapturous scenes of joy Shall burst upon our sight; And every pain, and tear, and sigh, Be drowned in endless night.
3 Beneath thy balmy wing, O Sun of Righteousness! Our happy souls shall sit and sing The wonders of thy grace.
4 Nor shall that radiant day, So joyfully begun, In evening shadows die away Beneath the setting sun.
5 How various and how new Are thy compassions, Lord! Eternity thy love shall show, And all thy truth record.
823 7s, 6 lines. The soul panting for God. Psalm 42.
As the hart, with eager looks, Panteth for the water-brooks, So my soul, athirst for thee, Pants the living God to see: When, O when, with filial fear, Lord, shall I to thee draw near?
2 Why art thou cast down, my soul? God, thy God, shall make thee whole: Why art thou disquieted? God shall lift thy fallen head, And his countenance benign Be the saving health of thine.
824 7s. They that conquer shall wear the crown.
Come, my Christian brethren, come, Let us onward to our home; Though we many trials meet, Jesus makes our trials sweet. CHORUS. We with Jesus soon shall be Happy in eternity: By our Father’s side sit down: They that conquer shall wear the crown.
2 Brother Christian, doubt no more, Christ your Saviour’s gone before; He himself has marked the way, Leading to eternal day. We with Jesus, etc.
3 Let us never be afraid, ’Tis on Christ our help is laid; He will all our foes o’ercome, He will take his exiles home. We with Jesus, etc.
4 Though the world revile and mock, We are built upon the Rock; And while thus we dwell secure, Christ will make our goings sure. We with Jesus, etc.
825 8s & 7s. Prisoners of hope. Zech. 9:12.
Let me go; my soul is weary Of the chain which binds me here; Let my spirit bend its pinion To a brighter, holier sphere. Earth, ’tis true hath friends that bless me With their fond and faithful love; But the hands of angels beckon Onward to the climes above.
2 Let me go; for earth hath sorrow, Sin, and pain, and bitter tears; All its paths are dark and dreary, All its hopes are fraught with fears; Short-lived are its brightest flowers, Soon its cherished joys decay:— Let me go; I fain would leave it For the realms of endless day.
3 Let me go; my heart hath tasted Of my Saviour’s wondrous grace; Let me go, where I shall ever See and know him face to face. Let me go; the trees of heavén Rise before me, waving bright, And the distant, crystal waters Flash upon my failing sight.
4 Let me go; for songs seraphic Now seem calling from the sky— ’Tis the welcome of the angels, Which e’en now are hovering nigh: Let me go: they wait to bear me To the mansions of the blest; Where the spirit, worn and weary, Finds at last its long sought rest.
826 8s. Longing for rest. Psalm 55:6, 7.