He by himself hath sworn,
I on his oath depend;

I shall, on eagles' wings upborne,
To heaven ascend;

I shall behold his face,

I shall his power adore,

And sing the wonders of his grace For evermore.

Though nature's strength decay, And earth and hell withstand, To Canaan's bound I urge my way At his command;

The watery deep I pass,

With Jesus in my view,

And through the howling wilderness.

My way pursue.

The goodly land I see,

With peace and plenty blest,

A land of sacred liberty

And endless rest.

There milk and honey flow,

And oil and wine abound,

And trees of life forever grow,
With mercy crowned.

There dwells the Lord our King, The Lord our righteousness; Triumphant o'er the world and sin, The Prince of peace

On Zion's sacred height

His kingdom still maintains,

And glorious, with His saints in light, Forever reigns.

He keeps His own secure,

He guards them by His side; Arrays in garments white and pure His spotless bride;

With streams of sacred bliss,

With groves of living joys, With all the fruits of Paradise, He still supplies.

Before the Three in One

They all exulting stand,

• And tell the wonders He hath done Through all their land;

The listening spheres attend,

And swell the growing fame, And sing, in songs which never end,

The wondrous name.

Before the Saviour's face

The ransomed nations bow,
O'erwhelmed at His almighty grace,

Forever new;

He shows His prints of love,

They kindle to a flame,

And sound, through all the world above,

The slaughtered Lamb.

The whole triumphant host

Give thanks to God on high;

Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

They ever cry;

Hail, Abraham's God and mine,

I join the heavenly lays;

All might and majesty be Thine,
And endless praise.

THERE IS NO MORE SEA.

FYSH.

W

HEN tempests toss, and billows roll,

And lightnings rend from pole to pole,

Sweet is the thought to me,

That one day it shall not be so;

In the bright world to which I go.
The tempest shall forget to blow;

There shall be no more sea.

My little bark has suffered much
From adverse storms; nor is she such

As once she seemed to be;
But I shall shortly be at home,
No more a mariner to roam;

When once I to the port am come,
There will be no more sea.

Then let the waves run mountain high, Confound the deep, perplex the sky,This shall not always be;

One day the sun will brightly shine
With life, and light, and heat divine;
And when that glorious light is mine,
There will be no more sea.

My Pilot tells me not to fear,
But trust entirely to His care,
And He will guarantee,

If only I depend on Him,

To land me safe, in His good time,
In yonder purer, happier clime,
Where shall be no more sea.

WHERE THE BLIND SEE.

JESSIE GLENN.

OH, I hear them tell of a canopy fair,

That stretches its blue wing far up in the air; They say it is gemmed with the stars of night, That sparkle and gleam in the pale moonlight; But when I look up all is darkness to me, For I cannot see! I cannot see!

I hear of the flowers that round me bloom,
And my spirit finds joy in their sweet perfume;
The rose and the clematis surely are fair,
For feeling can tell me that beauty is there;
But those lovely tints are not painted for me,
For I cannot see! I cannot see!

The zephyr's sweet wing rustles over me now,
For I feel its soft breath fan the curls on my brow;
Hark! it speaks to me too, in its own sweet way;
Oh, would I might teel it, ere passing away!

I will touch it just once-but where can it be?
Oh, I cannot see! I cannot see!

The rays of the sun, which they tell me are bright:
I feel on my cheek, though a stranger to sight;
While music's low tones gently steal on my ear,
And while pining to see it I scarcely can hear;
But music and sunbeams are nothing to me,
For I cannot see! I cannot see!