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2 O blesséd 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

O

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. 20 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.

F. W. Faber.

365

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!

S. Dach.

Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us !

With Thee, th' Anointed,
Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.

H. W. Longfellow, Tr.

366 ERUSALEM, thou city fair and high,

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 0 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 dis

dain That tyrants dare to doI 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!

J. M. Meyfart.

C. Winkworth, Tr. 367 !

, Beneath thy contemplation

Sink heart and voice opprest. I know not, oh, I know not,

What joys await us there! What radiancy of glory!

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.

JERWith milk and honey blest,

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 blesséd 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

MIDST the lilies blooming yonder

Thou shalt wander.
O my soul, and be at home:
Rise, then, as on eagle pinions-

Thy dominions
Are above where angels roam.

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