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XCI.

WHAT are these in bright array?
This innumerable throng,

Round the altar, night and day,
Tuning their triumphant song?
-"Worthy is the Lamb once slain,
Blessing, honour, glory, power,
Wisdom, riches to obtain,
New dominion, every hour."

These through fiery trials trod;
These from great affliction came;
Now before the throne of God,
Seal'd with his eternal name;
Clad in raiment pure and white,
Victor-palms in every hand,

Through their great Redeemer's might,
More than conquerors they stand.

Hunger, thirst, disease, unknown,
On immortal fruits they feed;
Them, the Lamb, amidst the throne,
Shall to living fountains lead;
Joy and gladness banish sighs;
Perfect love dispel their fears;
And for ever, from their eyes,
God shall wipe away all tears.

XCII.

"SERVANT of God! well done;
Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy."

-The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear,

A mortal arrow pierced his frame;
He fell, but felt no fear.

Tranquil amidst alarms,
It found him in the field,
A veteran slumbring on his arms,
Beneath his red-cross shield:
His sword was in his hand,
Still warm with recent fight;
Ready that moment, at command,
Through rock and steel to smite.

It was a two-edged blade,
Of heavenly temper keen;

And double were the wounds it made,
Where'er it smote between :
'Twas death to sin;-'twas life
To all that mourn'd for sin;
It kindled, and it silenced, strife,
Made war, and peace, within.
Oft with its fiery force,
His arm had quell'd the foe,

And laid, resistless in his course,
The alien-armies low.

Bent on such glorious toils,
The world to him was loss;

Yet all his trophies, all his spoils,
He hung upon the cross.

At midnight came the cry,
"To meet thy God prepare!"

He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;
Then, strong in faith and prayer,

His spirit, with a bound,

Burst its encumbering clay :

His tent, at sun-rise, on the ground,
A darken'd ruin lay.

The pains of death are past,

Labour and sorrow cease,

And, life's long warfare closed at last,

His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ! well done;
Praise be thy new employ ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour's joy.

XCIII.

In a land of strange delight,
My transported spirit stray'd
I awake, where all is night,
Silence, solitude, and shade.

Is the dream of nature flown?
Is the universe destroy'd,
Man extinct, and I alone

Breathing through the formless void?

No-my soul, in God rejoice;
Through the gloom, his light I see,
In the silence hear his voice,
And his hand is over me.

When I slumber in the tomb,
He will guard my resting-place;
Fearless in the day of doom,
May I stand before his face!

MOORE.

XCIV.

THE dove let loose in eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,

Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idler warblers roam;

But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,

Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,'
Nor shadow dims her way.

So grant me, Lord! from every stain
Of sinful passion free,

Aloft, through virtue's purer air,
To steer my course to Thee!

No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs;
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom on her wings.

NEWTON.

XCV.

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

It makes the wounded spirit whole,
It calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary, rest.

Dear name! the rock on which I build!
My shield and hiding-place,
My never-failing treasury, fill'd
With boundless stores of grace.

Jesus! my shepherd, husband, friend,
My prophet, priest, and king,
My Lord, my life, my way, my end,
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought,
But when I see thee as thou art,
I'll praise thee as I ought.

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