My father's house on high,
Home of my soul, how near,
At times, to faith's aspiring eye,
The golden gates appear!
Ah, how my spirit faints

To reach the land I love;
The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above.

Yet doubts still intervene,
And all my comfort flies;
Like Noah's dove I flit between
Rough seas and stormy skies.
Anon the clouds depart,

The winds and waters cease;
While sweetly, o'er my gladdened heart,
Expands the bow of peace.

"Forever with the Lord!"

Father, if 't is Thy will,
The promise of Thy gracious word,

E'en here, to me fulfill.
Be Thou at my right hand,

So shall I never fail:

Uphold me, and I needs must stand;

Fight, and I shall prevail.

So, when my latest breath

Shall rend the vail in twain,

By death I shall escape from death,
And life eternal gain.

Knowing" as I am known,"

How shall I love that word,

And oft repeat before the throne, "Forever with the Lord!"

PARADISE MUST FAIRER BE.

From the German of FRIEDRICH RUCKERT.

OH, Paradise must fairer be

Than any spot below!

My spirit pines for liberty;
Now let me thither go!

In Paradise, forever clear,

The stream of love is flowing, For every tear that I've shed here A pearl therein is glowing.

In Paradise alone is rest;

Joy breathing, woe-dispelling;
A heavenly wind fans every breast.
Within that happy dwelling.

For every wounding thorn below,
A rose shall blossom there;
And sweeter flowers than earth can show
Shall twine around my hair.

And every joy, that, budding died,

Shall open there in bloom;

And Spring, in all her flowery pride,

Shall waken from the tomb.

And all the joys shall meet me there
For which my heart was pining,
Like golden fruit in gardens fair,
And flowers forever shining.

My youth, that fled so soon away,
And left me sad, decaying,

Shall there, be with me every day

With bright wings round me playing.

All hopes, all wishes, all the love
I sighed for, pined for ever,
Shall bloom around me there above,
And last with me forever!

KNOW YE THE LAND?

From the German, by Dr. MILLS.

KNOW ye the land?—On earth 'twere vainly

sought

To which the heart in sorrows turns its thought;
Where no complaint is heard-tears never flow-
The good are blest-the weak with vigor glow,-
Know ye it well?

For this, for this

All earthly wish or care, my friends, dismiss!

Know ye the way-the rugged path of thorns?
His lagging progress there, the traveller mourns;
He faints, he sinks,-from dust he cries to God-
"Relieve me, Father, from the weary road!"
Know ye it well?

It guides, it guides,
To that dear land, where all we hope abides.

Know ye that Friend?-In Him a man you see;
Yet more than man, more than all men is He;
Himself before us trod the path of thorns,
To pilgrims now His heart with pity turns.
Know ye Him well?

His hand, His hand

Will safely bring us to that Father-Land.

THAT SHALL BE FOR THEE AND ME.

HORATIUS BONAR.

WHAT

HAT to that for which we're waiting,
Is this glittering, earthly toy?

Heavenly glory, holy splendor,
Sum of grandeur, sum of joy!
Not the gems that Time can tarnish,
Not the hues that dim and die;
Not the glow that cheats the lover,
Shaded with mortality.

Heir of glory,

That shall be for thee and me!

Not the light that leaves us darker,
Not the gleams that come and go;
Not the mirth whose end is madness,

Not the joy whose fruit is woe;
Not the notes that die at sunset,
Not the fashion of a day,
But the everlasting beauty,
And the endless melody:
Heir of glory,

That shall be for thee and me!

City of the pearl-bright portal,

City of the jasper wall, City of the golden pavement, Seat of endless festival; City of JEHOVAH, Salem! City of Eternity!

To thy bridal halls of gladness,

From this prison would I flee !
Heir of glory,

That shall be for thee and me!

Ah! with such strange spells around me,

Fairest of what earth calls fair,

How I need thy fairer image
To undo the syren snare!
Lest the subtle serpent-tempter
Lure me with his radiant lie;

As if sin were sin no longer,
Life were no more vanity!

Heir of glory,

What is that to thee and me?