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I would not miss them at home in heaven;
O Jesus, who gave them me,

May I have them again in the land of peace,
In the home by the glassy sea?

When the golden crowns at my feet are cast,
May they be among the band;

When the hymn is swelling o'er heavenly hills,
Let them with the harpers stand.

It cannot be that the dearest ones
Shall depart in the day of strife;
It cannot be that the loves of earth,
Shall die in the day of life.

I would that my dear ones might all be brought
To the feet of the Crucified;

Might be carried to Him when borne away
By the coldly rolling tide.

But man is weak, although love be strong,
And I can but look to Thee,

And pray as Thou prayedst in Thine agony,
Oh, give them again to me!

A

THE INNUMERABLE GREETING.

EDWARD HENRY BICKERSTETH.

ND lo, upon the extreme verge of cloud

As once at Eden's portals there appear'd A company of angels clothed in light, Thronging the path or in the amber air

Suspense. And in the twinkling of an eye
We were among them and they cluster'd round
And waved their wings, and struck their harps again
For gladness: every look was tenderness,

And every word was musical with joy.

"Welcome to heaven, dear brother, welcome home. Welcome to thy inheritance of light!

Welcome forever to thy Master's joy!

Thy work is done, thy pilgrimage is past;

Thy guardian angel's vigil is fulfill'd;

Thy parents wait thee in the bowers of bliss ;
Thy infant babes have woven wreaths for thee;
Thy brethren who have enter'd into rest
Long for thy coming; and the angel choirs
Are ready with their symphonies of praise.
Nor shall thy voice be mute: a golden harp
For thee is hanging on the trees of life;
And sweetly shall its chords forever ring,
Responsive to thy touch of ecstasy,
With Hallelujahs to thy Lord and ours."

So sang they; and that vast defile of clouds
Re-echoed with the impulses of song
And music, and the atmosphere serene
Throbb'd with innumerable greetings.

O HAPPY SAINTS WHO DWELL IN LIGHT.

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JOHN BERRIDGE.

HAPPY saints who dwell in light,

And walk with Jesus, clothed in white;

Safe landed on that peaceful shore,

Where pilgrims meet to part no more.

Released from sin, and toil, and grief,
Death was their gate to endless life, -
An opened cage, to let them fly
And build their happy nest on high.

And now they range the heavenly plains,
And sing their hymns in melting strains;
And now their souls begin to prove
The height and depth of Jesus' love.

He cheers them with eternal smile;
They sing hosannas all the while,
Or, overwhelmed with raptures sweet,
Sink down adoring at his feet.

Ah, Lord, with tardy steps I creep,
And sometimes sing, and sometimes weep;
Yet strip me of this house of clay,
And I will sing as loud as they.

MY SAVIOUR WHOM ABSENT I LOVE.

WILLIAM COWPER.

M

Y Saviour whom absent I love,
Whom not having seen I adore,

Whose name is exalted above

All glory, dominion and power.

Dissolve Thou those bands that detain
My soul from her portion in Thee,
Ah, strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.

When that happy era begins,

When arrayed in Thy glories I shine, Nor grieve any more, by my sins,

The bosom on which I recline;

Oh then shall the veil be removed,

And round me Thy brightness be poured; I shall meet Him Whom absent I loved, I shall see Whom unseen I adored.

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TO BE WITH CHRIST WHICH IS FAR

BETTER.

CHARLES WESLEY.

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H when shall we sweetly remove,
Oh when shall we enter our rest,

Return to the Zion above,

The mother of spirits distrest;
That city of God the great King,

Where sorrow and death are no more,
Where saints our Immanuel sing,
And cherub and seraph adore?

Thou know'st in the spirit of prayer
We long Thy appearing to see,
Resigned to the burden we bear,

But longing to triumph with Thee:
'Tis good at Thy word to be here;
'Tis better in Thee to be gone,
And see Thee in glory appear,

And rise to a share in Thy throne.

To mourn for Thy coming is sweet,
To weep at Thy longer delay ;
But Thou, whom we hasten to meet,

Shalt chase all our sorrows away.

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