Prospect of the Promised Land.
1 ON Jordan's stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.
2 0 the transporting, rapturous scene
That rises to my sight!
Sweet fields, arrayed in living green,
And rivers of delight!
3 There generous fruits, that never fail,
On trees immortal grow;
There rocks, and hills, and brooks, and vales,
With milk and honey flow.
4 All o'er those wide-extended plains
Shines one eternal day;
There God, the sun, forever reigns,
And scatters night away.
5 No chilling winds or poisonous breath
Can reach that healthful shore ;
Sickness and sorrow, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.
6 When shall I reach that happy place,
And be forever blest?
When shall I see my Father's face,
And in his bosom rest?
1 RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things,
Towards heaven, thy native place:
Sun, and moon, and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.
2 Rivers to the ocean run,
Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun,—
Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God
Pants to view his glorious face,
Upward tends to his abode,
To rest in his embrace.
3 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Savior will return,
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season, and you know
Happy entrance will be given,
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchanged for heaven.
36*
Triumph in the Assurance of Heaven.
1 WHEN I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
2 Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at satan's rage,
And face a frowning world.
3 Let cares, like a wild deluge, come,
And storms of sorrow, fall;
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heaven, my all;
4 There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest;
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
The Bounties of Providence acknowledged.
1 FATHER of lights! we sing thy name,
Who kindlest up the lamp of day;
Wide as he spreads his golden flame,
His beams thy power and love display.
2 Fountain of good! from thee proceeds,
In copious drops, the genial rain,
Which o'er the hills, and through the meads,
Revives the grass, and swells the grain.
3 Through the wide world thy bounties spread;
Yet thousands of our guilty race,
Though by thy daily bounty fed,
Affront thy law, reject thy grace.
4 Not so may our forgetful hearts
O'erlook the tokens of thy care;
But what thy liberal hand imparts,
Still own in praise, still ask in prayer.
5 So shall our suns more grateful shine,
And showers in richer drops shall fall,
When all our hearts and lives are thine,
And thou, O God! enjoyed in all.
Praise in Fruitful and in Barren Seasons.
1 PRAISE to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous Source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ:
2 For the blessings of the field,
For the stores the gardens yield,
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the generous olive's use.
3 Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripened grain,
Clouds that drop their fattening dews,
Suns that temperate warmth diffuse;
4 All that spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that liberal autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing stores ;-
5 These to thee, our God, we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow;
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
6 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the ripening ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit;
7 Should thine altered hand restrain
Th' early and the latter rain,
Blast each opening bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy;
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