LEAD US TO THY HOME.

FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE.

TAR of morn and even,

Sun of Heaven's heaven,

Saviour high and dear,
Toward us turn Thine ear;
Through whate'er may come,
Thou canst lead us home.

Though the gloom be grievous,
Those we leant on leave us;
Though the coward heart
Quit its proper part,

Though the tempter come,
Thou wilt lead us home.

Saviour pure and holy,
Lover of the lowly,
Sign us with Thy sign,
Take our hands in Thine;
Take our hands and come
Lead Thy children home!

Star of morn and even
Shine on us from Heaven;
From Thy glory-throne

Hear Thy very own!

Lord and Saviour, come,

Lead us to our home!

I LOVE TO THINK OF HEAVEN.

SWAINE.

LOVE to think of heaven, where I shall meet
My fellow travellers, and where no more
With grief or sin my mind will be disturbed;
Where holy saints and holy angels dwell
In constant harmony and mutual love.
But when my heart anticipates the sight
Of God Incarnate, wearing on His side
And hands and feet, those marks of love divine
Which He on Calvary for me endured,
All heaven is swallowed up in this;

And He who is my hope of heaven below
Appears the glory of my heaven above.

HASTE, MY BELOVED, RAISE MY SOUL.

ISAAC WATTS.

F

ROM Thee, my God, my joys shall rise,

And run eternal rounds,

Beyond the limits of the skies,

And all created bounds.
The holy triumphs of my soul
Shall death itself outbrave,
Leave dull mortality behind,

And fly beyond the grave.

There, where my blesséd Jesus reigns,
In heaven's unmeasured space,
I'll spend a long eternity

In pleasure and in praise.
Millions of years my wondering eyes
Shall o'er thy beauties rove,
And endless ages I'll adore
The glories of thy love.

My Saviour! every smile of Thine
Shall fresh endearments bring,
And thousand tastes of new delight
From all Thy graces spring.
Haste, my Beloved! raise my soul
Up to Thy blest abode;
Fly! for my spirit longs to see
My Saviour and my God!

LET ME BE WITH THEE WHERE THOU

L

ART.

CHARLOTTE ELLIOTT.

ET me be with Thee where Thou art,

My Saviour, my eternal Rest;

Then only will this longing heart

Be fully and forever blest.

Let me be with Thee where Thou art,
Thy unveiled glory to behold;
Then only will this wandering heart

Cease to be treacherous, faithless, cold.

Let me be with Thee where Thou art,
Where spotless saints Thy name adore;
Then only will this sinful heart

Be evil and defiled no more.

Let me be with Thee where Thou art,
Where none can die, where none remove;
There neither death nor life will part
Me from Thy presence and Thy love.

I SEND THE JOYS OF EARTH AWAY.

I

ISAAC WATTS.

SEND the joys of earth away ; Away, ye tempters of the mind, False as the smooth, deceitful sea, And empty as the whistling wind!

Your streams were floating me along,

Down to the gulf of black despair ; And while I listened to your song,

Your streams had ev'n conveyed me there.

Lord! I adore Thy matchless grace,

Which warned me of that dark abyss, Which drew me from those treacherous seas, And bade me seek superior bliss.

Now to the shining realms above

I stretch my hands and glance my eyes;

Oh for the pinions of a dove

To bear me to the upper skies!

There, from the bosom of my God,
Oceans of endless pleasure roll;
There would I fix my last abode,

And drown the sorrows of my soul!

RISE, MY SOUL, AND STRETCH THY WINGS.

ROBERT SEAGRAVE.

R

ISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;

Rise from transitory things

Toward heaven, thy native place:
Sun, and moon, and stars decay;

Time shall soon this earth remove;

Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.

Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire, ascending, seeks the sun;

Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God,
Pants to view His glorious face,
Upward tends to His abode,
To rest in His embrace.

Fly me, riches, fly me, cares,
Whilst I that coast explore;

Flattering world, with all thy snares,
Solicit me no more!