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2 Shortly this prison of my clay,

Must be dissolv'd and fall; Then, O my soul, with joy obey

Thy heav'nly Father's call. 3 'Tis he, by his almighty grace,

That forms thee fit for heav'n; And, as an earnest of the place,

Has his own Spirit giv'n. 4 We walk by faith of joys to come;

Faith lives upon his word ; But while the body is our home,

We're absent from the Lord.
5 'Tis pleasant to believe thy grace,

But we had rather see;
We would be absent from the flesh,

And present, Lord, with thee. 45. The Sight of God and Christ in Heaven.

(C. M.) ESCEND from heav'n, immortal Dove,

Stoop down and take us on thy wings, And mount, and bear us far above The reach of these inferior things : Beyond, beyond this lower sky, Up where eternal ages roll, Where solid pleasures never die, And fruits immortal feast the sonl. O for a sight, a pleasing sight, Of our Almighty Father's throne! : There sits our Saviour crown'd with light, Cloth’d in a body like our own.

4 Adoring saints around him stand,

And thrones and pow'rs before him fall;
The God shines gracious thro' the man,
And sheds sweet glories on them all!
5 O what amazing joys they feel,

While to their golden harps they sing,
And sit on ev'ry heav'nly hill,

And spread the triumphs of their King! 6 When shall the day, dear Lord, appear,

That I shall mount to dwell above,
And stand and bow among them there,

And view thy face, and sing, and love? 546. A Prospect of Heaven makes Death easy.

(C. M.)
1 THERE is a land of pure delight,

1 Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlasting spring abides,

And never-withering flowers ;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides

This heav'nly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,

Stand dress'd in living green :
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

While Jordan roll'd between.
4 But timorous mortals start and shrink

To cross this narrow sea,
And linger, shiv’ring on the brink,

And fear to launch away.

5 O! could we make our doubts remove,

These gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love,

With unbeclouded eyes!
6 Could we but climb where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,

Should fright us from the shore.

547. The humble Worship of Heaven. (C. M.) 1 PATHER, I long, I faint to see

T The place of thine abode;
I'd leave thy earthly courts, and flee

Up to thy seat, my God!
2 Here I behold thy distant face,

And 'tis a pleasing sight;
But to abide in thine embrace,

Is infinite delight.
3 I'd part with all the joys of sense,

To gaze upon thy throne ;
Pleasure springs fresh for ever thence,

Unspeakable, unknown.
4 There all the heav'nly hosts are seen,

In shining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigour in,
. With wonder and with love.
5 When at thy feet, with awful fear,

Th' adoring armies fall;
With joy they shrink to nothing there,

Before th' eternal All,

6 There I would vie with all the bost,

In daty and in bliss,
While less than nothing I can boast,

And vanity confess.
7 The more thy glories strike mine eyes,

The humbler I shall lie;
Thus while I sink, my joys shall rise

Unmeasurably high. 548. Freedom from Sin and Misery in Heaven.

(C.M.)
1 N UR sins, alas, how strong they be?

And like a violent sea,
They break our duty, Lord, to thee,

And hurry us away,
2 The waves of trouble, how they rise!

How loud the tempests roar!
But death shall land our weary souls,

Safe on the heav'nly shore.
3 There to fulfil his sweet commands,

Our speedy feet shall move;
No sin shall clog our winged zeal,

Or cool our burning love.
4 There shall we sit, and sing, and tell

The wonders of his grace,
Till heav'nly raptures fire our hearts,

And smile in every face.
5 For ever his dear sacred name

Shall dwell upon our tongue,
And Jesus and salvation be,

The close of every song.

49. The Glory of Christ in Heaven. (C.M.) 10 THE delights, the heav'nly joys,

The glories of the place, Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams

Of his o’erflowing grace!
2 Sweet majesty, and awful love,

Sit smiling on his brow;
And all the glorious ranks above,

At humble distance bow. . 3 Princes to his imperial name,

Bend their bright sceptres down; Dominions, thrones, and powers, rejoice,

To see him wear the crown. 4 Archangels sound his lofty praise,

Through every heav'nly street; And lay their highest honours down,

Submissive at his feet.
6 Those soft, those blessed feet of his,

That once rude iron tore,
High on a throne of light they stand,

And all the saints adore.
6 His head, the dear majestic head,

That cruel thorns did wound, See what immortal glories shine,

And circle it around.
* This is the man, th' exalted man,

Whom we unseen adore ;
But when our eyes behold his face,
Our hearts shall love him more.

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