2 O blessed day! From far and near
The servants of the Lord

Shall meet the ransomed millions there
Who heard God's saving Word.

3 O what a mighty, rushing flood
Of love without surcease,

Shall roll about the throne of God
In joy and endless peace!

4 God, may Thy bounteous grace inspire
Our hearts so that we may

All join the heavenly white-robed choir
Upon that glorious day.

W. A. Wexels. G. T. Rygh, Tr.

364

PARADISE, O Paradise,

Who doth not crave for rest,

Who would not seek the happy land
Where they that loved are blest?
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light,

All rapture through and through,
In God's most holy sight.

2 O Paradise, O Paradise,

The world is growing old;
Who would not be at rest and free
Where love is never cold?
Where loyal hearts, etc.

3 O Paradise, O Paradise,

We long to sin no more,

We long to be as pure on earth
As on thy spotless shore;
Where loyal hearts, etc.

4 O Paradise, O Paradise,

We shall not wait for long;
E'en now the loving ear may catch
Faint fragments of Thy song;
Where loyal hearts, etc.

5 Lord Jesus, King of Paradise,
O keep us in Thy love,

And guide us to that happy land
Of perfect rest above;

Where loyal hearts, etc.

365

F. W. Faber.

O HOW blest are ye whose toils are ended! Who, through death, have unto God ascend

ed!

Ye have arisen

From the cares which keep us still in prison.

2 Christ has wiped away your tears forever; Ye have that for which we still endeavor; To you are chanted

Songs that ne'er to mortal ears were granted.

3 Ah! who would then not depart with gladness, To inherit heaven for earthly sadness? Who here would languish

Longer in bewailing and in anguish?

4 Come, O Christ, and loose the chains that bind

us!

Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us! With Thee, th' Anointed,

Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.

S. Dach.

H. W. Longfellow, Tr.

366

ERUSALEM, thou city fair and high,

JER

Would God I were in thee!

My longing heart fain, fain to thee would fly!
It will not stay with me;
Far over vale and mountain,
Far over field and plain,
It hastes to seek its fountain,
And quit this world of pain.

2 O happy day, and yet far happier hour,
When wilt thou come at last?
When fearless to my Father's love and power,
Whose promise standeth fast,

My soul I gladly render;

For surely will His hand Lead her, with guidance tender, To heaven her fatherland.

3 O what the nation, what the glorious host, Comes sweeping swiftly down?

The chosen ones on earth who wrought the

most,

The church's brightest crown,
Our Lord has sent to meet me;
As in the far-off years,

Their words oft came to greet me
In yonder land of tears.

4 The patriarchs' and prophets' noble train, With all Christ's followers true,

Who bore the cross, and could the worst disdain

That tyrants dare to do-
I see them shine forever,
All-glorious as the sun,
'Mid light that fadeth never,-

Their perfect freedom won.

5 And when within that lovely Paradise At last I safely dwell,

From out my soul what songs of bliss shall

rise!

What joy my lips shall tell!
While holy saints are singing
Hosannas o'er and o'er,

Pure hallelujahs ringing
Around me evermore!

367

ERUSALEM the golden!

With milk and honey blest, Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice opprest. I know not, oh, I know not, What joys await us there! What radiancy of glory!

J. M. Meyfart. C. Winkworth, Tr.

What bliss beyond compare!

2 They stand, those halls of Zion,
All jubilant with song,

And bright with many an angel,
And all the martyr throng.

The Prince is ever in them,
The daylight is serene;
The pastures of the blesséd

Are decked in glorious sheen.

3 There is the throne of David;

And there, from care released, The shout of them that triumph, The song of them that feast; And they, who with their Leader, Have conquered in the fight, Forever and forever

Are clad in robes of white.

4 O sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect!
O sweet and blesséd country,
That eager hearts expect!
Jesus, in mercy bring us

To that dear land of rest!

Who art, with God the Father,

And Spirit, ever blest.

Bernard of Cluny.
J. M. Neale, Tr.

368

IDST the lilies blooming yonder

MIDST

Thou shalt wander,

O my soul, and be at home:

Rise, then, as on eagle pinions-
Thy dominions

Are above where angels roam.