1220.

The Pilgrim's Song.

1 A FEW more years shall roll,

A few more seasons come;

And we shall be with those that rest,
Asleep within the tomb :
Then, O my Lord, prepare

My soul for that great day;
Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,
And take my sins away!

2 A few more storms shall beat

On this wild, rocky shore;

And we shall be where tempests cease,
And surges swell no more:
Then, O my Lord, prepare

My soul for that calm day;

Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,
And take my sins away!

3 A few more struggles here,

A few more partings o'er,

A few more toils, a few more tears,
And we shall weep no more:
Then, O my Lord, prepare

My soul for that blest day;

Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,
And take my sins away!

4 A few more Sabbaths here

Shall cheer us on our way;

And we shall reach the endless rest,
Th' eternal Sabbath-day:
Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that sweet day;

Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,
And take my sins away!

5 'Tis but a little while,

And he shall come again,

1 FAR down the ages now,

Much of her journey done,

The pilgrim church pursues her way,
Until her crown be won.

2 The story of the past

Comes up before her view;

How well it seems to suit her still

Old, and yet ever new!

3 It is the oft-told tale

Of sin and weariness,

Of grace and love yet flowing down
To pardon and to bless.

4 No wider is the gate,

No broader is the way,

No smoother is the ancient path,
That leads to life and day.

5 No sweeter is the cup,

Nor less our lot of ill:
"T was tribulation ages since,
'Tis tribulation still.
6 No slacker grows the fight,
No feebler is the foe,

Nor less the need of armor tried,
Of shield, and spear, and bow.

7 Thus onward still we press,

Through evil and through good,Through pain, and poverty, and want, Through peril and through blood.

2 Holy, holy, holy! thee,
One Jehovah evermore,
Father, Son, and Spirit! we,

Dust and ashes, would adore:
Lightly by the world esteemed,
From that world by thee redeemed,
Sing we here with glad accord,
Holy, holy, holy Lord!

3 Holy, holy, holy! all

Heaven's triumphant choir shall sing,
While the ransomed nations fall

At the footstool of their King:
Then shall saints and seraphim,
Harps and voices, swell one hymn,
Blending in sublime accord,
Holy, holy, holy Lord!

639.

"Whom have I in heaven but Thee?"

1 LORD of earth! thy forming hand
Well this beauteous frame hath planned,-
Woods that wave, and hills that tower,
Ocean rolling in his power:
Yet, amid this scene so fair,
Should I cease thy smile to share,
What were all its joys to me?
Whom have I on earth but thee?

2 Lord of heaven! beyond our sight
Shines a world of purer light;
There, in love's unclouded reign,
Parted hands shall meet again:
Oh, that world is passing fair!
Yet, if thou wert absent there,
What were all its joys to me?
Whom have I in heaven but thee?

1 LORD, what offering shall we bring,
At thine altars when we bow?
Hearts, the pure unsullied spring,
Whence the kind affections flow;
Soft compassion's feeling soul,

By the melting eye expressed;
Sympathy, at whose control

Sorrow leaves the wounded breast;

2 Willing hands to lead the blind, Bind the wounded, feed the poor; Love, embracing all our kind;

Charity, with liberal store:-
Teach us, O thou heavenly King,

Thus to show our grateful mind,
Thus th' accepted offering bring,
Love to thee, and all mankind.

1179.

"The valley of the shadow of death." Psalm 23.

1 THOUGH I walk the downward shade, Deepening through the vale of death, Yet I will not be afraid,

But, with my departing breath, I will glory in my God,

In my Saviour I will trust,
Strengthened by his staff and rod,
While this body falls to dust.

2 Soon on wings, on wings of love,
My transported soul shall rise,
Like the home-returning dove,
Vanishing through boundless skies;
Then, where death shall be no more,
Sin nor suffering e'er molest,
All my days of mourning o'er,
In his presence I shall rest.

1 WHILE thee I seek, protecting Power!
Be my vain wishes stilled;
And may this consecrated hour
With better hopes be filled!

2 Thy love the power of thought bestowed;
To thee my thoughts would soar:
Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed;
That mercy I adore.

3 In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I see!

Each blessing to my soul more dear,
Because conferred by thee.

4 In every joy that crowns my days,
In every pain I bear,

My heart shall find delight in praise,
Or seek relief in prayer.

5 When gladness wings my favored hour,
Thy love my thoughts shall fill;
Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower,
My soul shall meet thy will.

6 My lifted eye, without a tear,

The gathering storm shall see; My steadfast heart shall know no fear; That heart will rest on thee. 211. Remembrance of Divine Mercies. 1 WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,

My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost.
In wonder, love, and praise!
2 Unnumbered comforts on my soul
Thy tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived

From whom those comforts flowed.
3 When, in the slippery paths of youth,
With heedless step I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.

4 Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy.

5 Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And, after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.

6 Through all eternity to thee
A joyful song I'll raise:
But, oh! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.

222. "Your heavenly Father feedeth them."

Matt. 6: 25-34.

1 Он, why despond in life's dark vale!
Why sink to fears a prey?
Th' almighty power can never fail,
His love can ne'er decay.
2 Behold the birds that wing the air,
Nor sow nor reap the grain:
Yet God, with all a father's care,
Relieves when they complain.

3 Behold the lilies of the field:
They toil nor labor know;
Yet royal robes to theirs must yield,
In beauty's richest glow.

4 That God who hears the raven's cry,
Who decks the lily's form,
Will surely all your wants supply,
And shield you in the storm.

5 Seek first his kingdom's grace to share:
Its righteousness pursue :
And all that needs your earthly care
Will be bestowed on you.

6 Why then despond in life's dark vale!
Why sink to fears a prey?
Th' almighty power can never fail,
His love can ne'er decay.