PARADISE RESTORED.

CHARLES WESLEY.

ESUS, to thy dear wounds we flee, We seek thy bleeding side, Assured that all who trust in thee

Shall evermore abide.

Then let the thundering trumpet sound, The latest lightning glare;

The mountains melt; the solid ground
Dissolve as liquid air :

The huge, celestial bodies roll,
Amidst that general fire;
And shrivel as a parchment scroll,
And all in smoke expire.

Sublime upon his azure throne,
He speaks the Almighty Word;
His fiat is obeyed! 'tis done;
And Paradise restored!

So be it! let this system end,
This ruined earth and skies;
The New Jerusalem descend,
The New Creation rise.

ARISE, FLY UP, AND RUN.

A

ISAAC WATTS.

RISE, my soul! fly up, and run Through every heavenly street; And say there's nought below the sun. That's worthy of thy feet.

There, on a high, majestic throne,
Th' Almighty Father reigns,
And sheds His glorious goodness down
On all the blissful plains.

Bright, like a sun, the Saviour sits,
And spreads eternal noon;
No evenings there, nor gloomy nights,
To need the feeble moon.

Amidst those ever-shining skies
Behold the Sacred Dove;
While banished sin and sorrow flies
From all the realms of love.

But oh, what beams of heavenly grace
Transport them all the while!
Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face,
And love in every smile!,

Jesus, and when shall that dear day,
That joyful hour appear,

When I shall leave this house of clay,
To dwell among them there?

WRECK OF THE UNIVERSE.

W

MATHER BYLES.

HEN wild confusion wrecks the air,
And tempests rend the skies;

Whilst blended ruin, clouds and fire
In harsh disorder rise ;-

Safe in my Saviour's love I'll stand,
And strike a tuneful song;
My harp all trembling in my hand,
And all inspired my tongue.

I'll shout aloud, "Ye thunders, roll,
And shake the sullen sky;
Your sounding voice, from pole to pole,
In angry murmurs try :

"Let the earth totter on her base,
And clouds the heavens deform;
Blow, all ye winds, from every place,
And rush the final storm!"

Come quickly, blesséd Lord, appear—
Bid the swift chariot fly;

Let angels tell Thy coming near,
And snatch me to the sky.

Around Thy wheels, in the glad throng,
I'd bear a joyful part;

All hallelujah on my tongue—
All rapture in my heart.

WE SEEK THE PROMISED SOIL.

Ο

ANNA LETITIA BARBAuld.

UR country is Immanuel's ground—
We seek that promised soil;
The songs of Zion cheer our hearts,
While strangers here we toil.

Oft do our eyes with joy o'erflow,
And oft are bathed in tears;

Yet naught but heaven our hopes can raise,
And naught but sin our fears.

The flowers that spring along the road
We scarcely stoop to pluck;
We walk o'er beds of shining ore,
Nor waste one wishful look.

We tread the path our Master trod;
We bear the cross He bore;

And every thorn that wounds our feet
His temples pierced before.

"O FOR THE PEARLY GATES."

CECIL FRANCIS ALEXANDER.

OH, for the pearly gates of heaven!

Oh for the golden floor!

Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness,
That setteth nevermore!

The highest hopes we cherish here,
How soon they tire and faint!
How many a spot defiles the robe
That wraps the earthly saint!

Oh, for a heart that never sins!
Oh, for a soul washed white!
Oh, for a voice to praise our King,
Nor weary day nor night!

Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope,
And grace to lead us higher.

But there are perfectness and peace,
Beyond our best desire.

Oh, by Thy love and anguish, Lord,
And by Thy life laid down,
Grant that we fail not of Thy grace,
Nor fail to reach our crown!