'Tis mercy calis:- let all their tribute bring
Of grateful homage to our heavenly king:
With ardent love our hearts shall glow,
While heaven's sweet work begins below;
And strive, with those around his throne,
To praise the great Almighty One:
The Almighty hears, and gives us leave to call
On him, the Judge, the Guide, the sovereign Lord of
all.
MY God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home, on life's rough way,
Oh! teach me from my heart to say
"Thy will be done."
Though dark my påth, or sad my lot,
Let me be still, and murmur not,
But breathe the prayer divinely taught,
Thy will be done."
If thou shouldest call me to resign
What most I prize;-it ne'er was mine,
I only yield thee what was thine ;
Thy will be done."
Controul my will from day to day
Blend it with thine, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say
"Thy will be done."
And when on earth I breathe no more,
The prayer, oft mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier shore
"Thy will be done."
IF Love, the noblest, purest, best,
If Truth, all other truth above,
Will claim returns from every breast,——
Oh surely Jesus claims our love!
There's not a hope, with comfort fraught,
Triumphant over death and time,
But Jesus mingles in that thought,
Forerunner of our course sublime.
We see him in the daily round
Of social duty, mild and meek;
With him we tread the hallowed ground,
Communion with our God to seek.
Wee se his pitying, gentle eye,
When lonely want appeals for aid;
We hear him in the frequent sigh
That mourns the waste which sin has made.
We meet him at the lonely tomb;
We weep where Jesus wept before;
And there, above the grave's dark gloom,
We see him rise-and weep no more.
JESUS removes the veil
Which hid the mercy-seat; And leads the child of penitence Before his Father's feet.
From soul-debasing guilt
He frees the troubled mind;
And such as bear his gentle yoke
True liberty shall find.
And oh triumphant thought!
He calms the fear of death;
Faith shews the Saviour's bursting tomb,
And soothes the parting breath.
I'M but a stranger here, Heaven is my home:
Earth has its deserts drear, Heaven is my home.
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand:
Heaven is my fatherland,-Heaven is my home.
What though the tempests rage, Heaven is my
Short is my pilgrimage: Heaven is my home.
And time's wild wintry blast,
I shall reach home at last; Heaven is my home.
There at my Saviour's side,-Heaven is my home :
May I be glorified !-Heaven is my home.
There with the good and blest
Those I love most and best,
May I for ever rest! Heaven is my home.
Therefore I'll murmur not, Heaven is my home:
Whate'er my earthly lot; Heaven is my home.
If only I may stand
There at my Lord's right hand.
Heaven is my fatherland: Heaven is
WARRINGTON: PRINTED AT THE OBERLIN PRESS.
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