Jesus, Son of Mary, Fount of life alone,
Here we hail Thee present on Thine altar throne.
Humbly we adore Thee, Lord of endless might,
In the mystic symbols veiled from earthly sight.

Think, O Lord, in mercy on the souls of those
Who, in faith gone from us, now in death repose.
Here ’mid stress and conflict toils can never cease;
There, the warfare ended, bid them rest in peace.

Often were they wounded in the deadly strife;
Heal them, Good Physician, with the balm of life.
Every taint of evil, frailty and decay,
Good and gracious Savior, cleanse and purge away.

My faith has found a resting place,
Not in device or creed;
I trust the ever living One,
His wounds for me shall plead.

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I need no other argument,
I need no other plea,
It is enough that Jesus died,
And that He died for me.

Enough for me that Jesus saves,
This ends my fear and doubt;
A sinful soul I come to Him,
He’ll never cast me out.

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My heart is leaning on the Word,
The living Word of God,
Salvation by my Savior’s Name,
Salvation through His blood.

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My great Physician heals the sick,
The lost He came to save;
For me His precious blood He shed,
For me His life He gave.

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Far from God, away from Jesus,
Straying in the paths of sin,
Knowing not God’s full salvation,
Jesus calls you midst earth’s din.

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Come, ’tis Jesus calls you;
Come, without delay.
He is willing now to save you;
Come, O come today.

Why continue in your roaming?
Jesus bids you come today.
Mercy’s offer still is open;
Why not come without delay?

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How much longer will you tarry?
How much longer will you roam?
Listen, Jesus calls you to Him;
Will you not at once come home?

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Can you stay away from Jesus
With eternity in view?
Can you still reject His mercy
When you hear His call so true?

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You may almost come to Jesus,
But “almost” will never save;
For the soul that “fully” trusts Him
On the cross His life He gave.

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Jesus is tenderly calling you home
Calling today, calling today,
Why from the sunshine of love will you roam,
Farther and farther away?

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Calling today, calling today,
Jesus is calling, is tenderly calling today.

Jesus is calling the weary to rest,
Calling today, calling today,
Bring Him your burden and you shall be blest;
He will not turn you away.

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Jesus is waiting, O come to Him now,
Waiting today, waiting today,
Come with your sins, at His feet lowly bow;
Come, and no longer delay.

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Jesus is pleading, O list to His voice,
Hear Him today, hear Him today,
They who believe on His Name shall rejoice;
Quickly arise and away.

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And now the wants are told, that brought
Thy children to Thy knee;
Here lingering still, we ask for naught,
But simply worship Thee.

The hope of Heav’n’s eternal days
Absorbs not all the heart
That gives Thee glory, love, and praise
For being what Thou art.

For Thou art God, the One, the Same,
O’er all things high and bright;
And round us, when we speak Thy Name,
There spreads a heav’n of light.

O wondrous peace, in thought to dwell
On excellence divine;
To know that naught in man can tell
How fair Thy beauties shine!

O Thou, above all blessing blest,
O’er thanks exalted far,
Thy very greatness is a rest
To weaklings as we are;

For when we feel the praise of Thee
A task beyond our powers,
We say, “A perfect God is He,
And He is fully ours.”

All glory to the Father be,
All glory to the Son,
All glory, Holy Ghost, to Thee,
While endless ages run.

My soul with rapture waits for thee,
Beautiful vale of rest;
My home beyond the rolling sea,
Beautiful vale of rest;
I long to sing thy pleasures o’er,
The glories of thy tranquil shore,
Where pain and sorrow come no more—
Happy vale of rest.

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Beautiful vale of rest,
Beautiful vale of rest,
My soul with rapture longs for thee,
O! lovely vale of rest.

Thy radiant fields and glowing skies,
Beautiful vale of rest;
Too pure and bright for mortal eyes,
Beautiful vale of rest;
Beside the living stream that flows,
The weary heart shall find repose—
Thy pearly gates shall never close,
Happy vale of rest.

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The joys of earth, how soon they fade!
Beautiful vale of rest;
Like morning dew or evening shade,
Beautiful vale of rest;
Yet, when we reach thy golden strand,
Our gentle Savior’s promised land,
We’ll sing with all the angel band,
Happy vale of rest.

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O! who would dwell forever here,
Beautiful vale of rest;
With joy, unfading joy so near,
Beautiful vale of rest;
O! may I live that I may wear
A starry crown forever there,
And breathe thy sweet and balmy air,
Happy vale of rest.

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Gliding o’er life’s fitful waters,
Heavy surges sometimes roll;
And we sigh for yonder haven,
For the homeland of the soul.

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Blessèd homeland, ever fair!
Sin can never enter there;
But the soul, to life awaking,
Everlasting bloom shall wear.

Oft we catch a faint reflection,
Of its bright and vernal hills;
And, though distant, how we hail it!
How each heart with rapture thrills!

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To our Father, and our Savior,
To the Spirit, Three in One,
We shall sing glad songs of triumph
When our harvest work is done.

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’Tis the weary pilgrim’s homeland,
Where each throbbing care shall cease,
And our longings and our yearnings,
Like a wave, be hushed to peace.

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Come, let us join with one accord
In hymns around the throne:
This is the day our rising Lord
Has made and called His own.

This is the day that God has blest,
The brightest of the sev’n,
Type of that everlasting rest
The saints enjoy in Heav’n.

Then let us in His Name sing on,
And hasten to that day
When our Redeemer shall come down,
And shadows pass away.

Not one, but all our days below
Let us in hymns employ;
And in our Lord rejoicing,
Go to His eternal joy.

Friend after friend departs;
Who hath not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts,
That finds not here an end:
Were this frail world our only rest,
Living or dying, none were blest.

Beyond the flight of time,
Beyond this vale of death,
There surely is some blessèd clime
Where life is not a breath,
Nor life’s affections transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upward and expire.

There is a world above,
Where parting is unknown,
A whole eternity of love,
Formed for the good alone;
And faith beholds the dying here
Translated to that happier sphere.

Thus star by star declines,
Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines
To pure and perfect day;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,
But hide themselves in Heaven’s own light.

Up to the bountiful Giver of life,
Gathering home! gathering home!
Up to the dwelling where cometh no strife,
The dear ones are gathering home.

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Gathering home! Gathering home!
Never to sorrow more, never to roam.
Gathering home! Gathering home!
God’s children are gathering home!

Up to the city where falleth no night,
Gathering home! gathering home!
Up where the Savior’s own face is the light,
The dear ones are gathering home.

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Up to the beautiful mansions above,
Gathering home! gathering home!
Safe in the arms of His infinite love,
The dear ones are gathering home.

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Out on an ocean all boundless we ride,
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound;
Tossed on the waves of a rough, restless tide,
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound;
Far from the safe, quiet harbor we rode,
Seeking our Father’s celestial abode;
Promise of which on us each He bestowed:
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound.

Wildly the storm sweeps us on as it roars,
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound;
Look! yonder lie the bright heavenly shores:
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound;
Steady, O pilot! stand firm at the wheel;
Steady! we soon shall outweather the gale;
Oh, how we fly ’neath the loud creaking sail!
We’re homeward bound, homeward bound.

Into the harbor of Heav’n now we glide;
We’re home at last, home at last;
Softly we drift on its bright silver tide;
We’re home at last, home at last;
Glory to God! all our dangers are o’er;
We stand secure on the glorified shore;
Glory to God! we will shout evermore:
We’re home at last, home at last;

How sweet the hour of closing day,
When all is peaceful and serene,
And when the sun, with cloudless ray,
Sheds mellow luster o’er the scene!

Such is the Christian’s parting hour;
So peacefully he sinks to rest,
When faith, endued from Heav’n with power,
Sustains and cheers his languid breast.

Mark but that radiance of his eye,
That smile upon his wasted cheek;
They tell us of his glory nigh,
In language that no tongue can speak.

A beam from Heav’n is sent to cheer
The pilgrim on his gloomy road;
And angels are attending near,
To bear him to their bright abode.

Who would not wish to die like those
Whom God’s own Spirit deigns to bless?
To sink into that soft repose,
Then wake to perfect happiness?

If there be that skills to reckon
All the number of the blest,
He perchance can weigh the gladness
Of the everlasting rest,
Which, their earthly exile finished,
They by merit have possessed.

Through the vale of lamentation
Happily and safely past,
Now the years of their affliction
In their memory they recast,
And the end of all perfection
They can contemplate at last.

There the gifts of each and single
All in common right possess;
There each member hath his portion
In the Body’s blessedness;
So that he, the least in merits,
Shares the guerdon none the less.

In a glass through types and riddles
Dwelling here, we see alone;
Then serenely, purely, clearly,
We shall know as we are known,
Fixing our enlightened vision
On the glory of the throne.

There the Trinity of Persons
Unbeclouded shall we see;
There the Unity of Essence
Perfectly revealed shall be;
While we hail the Threefold Godhead
And the simple Unity.

Wherefore, man, take heart and courage,
Whatsoe’er thy present pain;
Such untold reward through suffering
Thou may’st merit to attain;
And for ever in His glory
With the Light of light to reign.

I’m but a stranger here, Heav’n is my home;
Earth is a desert drear, Heav’n is my home.
Danger and sorrow stand round me on every hand;
Heav’n is my fatherland, Heav’n is my home.

What though the tempest rage, Heav’n is my home;
Short is my pilgrimage, Heav’n is my home;
Time’s cold and wild wintry blast soon shall be over past;
I shall reach home at last, Heav’n is my home.

There at my Savior’s side Heav’n is my home;
I shall be glorified, Heav’n is my home.
There are the good and blest, those I loved most and best;
There, too, I soon shall rest, Heav’n is my home.

Therefore I murmur not, Heav’n is my home;
Whate’er my earthly lot, Heav’n is my home;
And I shall surely stand there at my Lord’s right hand.
Heav’n is my fatherland, Heav’n is my home.

Jesus, I am resting, resting,
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For by Thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

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Jesus, I am resting, resting,
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

O, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O, how marvelous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Belovèd,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

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Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings:
Thine is love indeed!

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Ever lift Thy face upon me
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ’neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with Thy grace.

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Lord, I believe a rest remains
To all Thy people known,
A rest where pure enjoyment reigns,
And Thou art loved alone.

A rest where all our soul’s desire
Is fixed on things above;
Where fear, and sin, and grief expire,
Cast out by perfect love.

O that I now the rest might know,
Believe, and enter in!
Now, Savior, now the power bestow,
And let me cease from sin.

Remove this hardness from my heart,
This unbelief remove:
To me the rest of faith impart,
The Sabbath of Thy love.

Lord, on Thy returning day,
From common labor freed,
We are come to sing and pray
With felt returning need:
Come to seek our former rest,
Come to urge our old request.

Show us, Lord, the goal of life,
And give us heart to run;
Breathe the peace that follows strife,
Lest future work we shun:
Hearts that hasty time has grieved
Are by Sabbath calm relieved.

We would sing as in the rays
Of mercy ever bright,
Which endureth, to Thy praise,
Forever Thy delight:
Sing for happiness we know,
Or that we may happy grow.

We would pray as those who stand
Their truest Friend beside,
Whom He takes as by the hand,
Unto their God to guide;
By His power, and for His sake,
Fully us Thy children make.

Maker of earth, to Thee alone
Perpetual rest belongs;
And the bright choirs around Thy throne
May pour their endless songs.

But we—ah holy now no more!
Are doomed to toil and pain;
Yet exiles on an alien shore
May sing their country’s strain.

Father, whose promise binds Thee still
To heal the suppliant throng,
Grant us to mourn the deeds of ill
That banish us so long.

And, while we mourn, in faith to rest
Upon Thy love and care,
Till Thou restore us with the blest
The song of heaven to share.

O God the Father, God the Son,
And God the Holy Ghost,
To Thee be praise, great Three in One,
From Thy created host.

I am far frae my hame, an’ I’m weary aftenwhiles,
For the langed for hame bringin’, an’ my Father’s welcome smiles;
An’ I’ll ne’er be fu’ content, until mine een do see
The gowden gates o’ Heav’n an’ my ain countrie.

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The earth is fleck’d wi’ flowers, mony tinted, fresh an’ gay
The birdies warble blithely, for my Faither made them sae:
But these sights an’ these soun’s will as naething be to me,
When I hear the angels singin’ in my ain countrie.

I’ve His gude word o’ promise that some gladsome day, the King
To His ain royal palace his banished hame will bring;
Wi’een an’ wi’ hert rinnin’ owre, we shall see
The King in His beauty, in oor ain countrie.

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Sae little noo I ken, o’ yon blessèd, bonnie place
I only ken it’s Hame, whaur we shall see His face,
It wad surely be eneuch for ever mair to be
In the glory o’ His presence, in oor ain countrie.

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He is faithfu’ that hath promised, an He’ll surely come again,
He’ll keep His tryst wi’ me, at what oor I dinnna ken;
But He bids me still to wait, an’ ready aye to be,
To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie.

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My heart is yearning ever
To reach a place of rest.
Jerusalem, my happy home,
In thee my heart shall never
By sin or grief be pressed.
My heart is yearning ever
To reach that city bright.

Within its radiant portals
None ever sheds a tear;
God’s city bright gives all delight,
No grief nor wail or mortals
Is where the Lamb is near;
Within its radiant portals
None ever sheds a tear.

Their blessèd Lord and Savior
Doth rule and govern them
In peace and joy, without alloy,
For sin can enter never
The new Jerusalem;
Their blessèd Lord and Savior
Doth rule and govern them.

Behold the goal in glory,
Now shining from afar.
O city of the God of love,
Where no more earthly worry
My happiness shall mar!
Behold the goal in glory,
Now shining from afar.

And even I shall conquer
In Jesus’ Name and might;
Tho’ weak and faint, still as a saint
I’ll in the haven anchor,
Sweet haven of delight.
Yea, even I shall conquer
In Jesus’ Name and might.

Now the busy week is done,
Now the rest-time is begun;
Thou hast brought us on our way,
Kept and led us day by day;
Now there comes the first and best,
Day of worship, light and rest.

Hallow, Lord, the coming day!
When we meet to praise and pray,
Hear Thy Word, Thy feast attend,
Hours of happy service spend;
To our hearts be manifest,
Lord of labor and of rest.

For Thy children gone before
We can trust Thee and adore;
All their earthly week is past,
Sabbath-time is theirs at last;
Fold them, Father, to Thy breast,
Give them everlasting rest.

Guide us all the days to come,
Till Thy mercy call us home:
All our powers do Thou employ,
Be Thy work our chiefest joy;
Then, the promised land possessed,
Bid us enter into rest.

O sleepless nights, O cheerless days,
O sobs, that will not cease;
Be still, be still! kind are His ways,
Christ is the Prince of Peace:
’Tis well thy head, in throbbing pain,
May pillow on His breast;
Weep there thy tears like springtime rain—
He gives the mourner rest.

Toil bravely on, ’twill not be long
Thy bark shall plow the main;
Steer well; thy guide shall be the song
That rings from Heaven’s plain;
And watch thou for the gleaming lights
That shine across the wave;
They’re planted on fair Heaven’s heights,
The mariner to save.

Steer well! the harbor just ahead
Aglow with glory’s ray,
Will on thee golden luster shed,
From out the gates of day,
And waiting there are longing hands
That thrill to clasp thine own,
And lead thee thro’ the heav’nly land
Into the bright unknown.

Oh, strive thou well to overcome,
And clothe thyself in white,
Wait patiently thy welcome home
To scenes of glory bright:
The Lord loves those He chastens sore,
And binds the bleeding wound;
And gently heals the heart He tore,
That grace may more abound!

Whate’er my afflictions or trials may be,
I want to live faithful, my Savior, to Thee,
To walk as a Christian, my temper subdued,
And feel, through Thy mercy, in spirit renewed.

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Home, home, home, sweet, sweet home,
I know there is rest with Thy people at home,
I know there is rest with Thy people at home.

Though dark is my path in this valley of sin,
O give me the light of Thy comfort within,
To shield me from danger wherever I roam,
And guide me at last to Thy people at home.

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I want to be humble, resigned to Thy will,
In sunshine or tempest to follow Thee still,
Yet, lured by the tempter, how often I roam,
Forgetful, alas! of my God and my home.

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No parent so tender, so friend is so dear,
No voice like my Savior’s can banish my fear;
By faith in Thy promise to Thee I will come,
O, give me a place with Thy people at home.

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When shall I rise from this desert of gloom,
Beyond the deep shadows that darken the tomb,
In Eden, dear Eden, transported to roam,
And sing hallelujahs with angels at home?

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In the Christian’s home in glory
There remains a land of rest;
There my Savior’s gone before me,
To fulfill my soul’s request.

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There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for you.
On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming,
There is rest for you.

He is fitting up my mansion,
Which eternally shall stand,
For my stay shall not be transient,
In that holy, happy land.

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Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter,
Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But, in that celestial center,
I a crown of life shall wear.

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Death itself shall then be vanquished,
And his sting shall be withdrawn;
Shout for gladness, O ye ransomed!
Hail with joy the rising morn.

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O why are you clinging to earth’s fading flow’rs,
Tho’ fragrant its blossoms and lovely its bow’rs?
The cold breath of winter will sweep them away,
Then why from your fatherland,
O why will you stay?

Refrain

Why will you stay? Jesus calls you today,
Your poor aching hearts for rest are longing still,
And yet in His mercy you may rest if you will.

O why are you dreaming of hopes that are frail,
That die like the leaflet when tossed by the gale?
The heart’s weary longings the world cannot still,
And yet in the Savior you may rest if you will.

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O why are you slighting the voice of the Lord,
Refusing to follow His life giving Word?
No love like the Savior’s your lone hearts can fill,
That love is inviting you to rest if you will.

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O why are you waiting when time flies apace?
Take heed that ye spurn not God’s message of grace;
O trust not the pleasures that charm to deceive,
But come to the Savior and, repenting, believe.

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A rest remaineth for the weary;
Arise, sad heart, and grieve no more;
Though long the way, and dark and dreary,
It endeth on the golden shore.
Before His throne the Lamb will lead thee,
On heav’nly pastures He will feed thee,
Cast off thy burden, come with haste;
Soon will the toil and strife be ended,
The weary way which thou hast wended.
Sweet is the rest which thou shalt taste.

The Father’s house has many a dwelling,
And there will be a place for thee.
With perfect love His heart is welling
Who loved thee from eternity.
His precious blood the Lamb hath given
That thou might’st share the joys of Heaven,
And now He calleth far and near:
“Ye weary souls, cease your repining,
Come while for you My light is shining;
Come, sweetest rest awaits you here!”

O come, come all, ye weak and weary,
Ye souls bowed down with many a care;
Arise and leave your dungeons dreary
And listen to His promise fair:
“Ye bore your burdens meek and lowly,
I will fulfill My pledge most holy,
I’ll be your solace and your rest.
Ye are Mine own, I will requite you;
Though sin and Satan seek to smite you,
Rejoice! Your home is with the blest.”

There rest and peace in endless measure
Shall be ours through eternity;
No grief, no care, shall mar our pleasure,
And untold bliss our lot shall be.
Oh, had we wings to hasten yonder—
No more o’er earthly ills to ponder—
To join the glad, triumphant band!
Make haste, my soul, forget all sadness;
For peace awaits thee, joy and gladness—
The perfect rest is nigh at hand.

Softly fades the twilight ray,
Of the holy Sabbath day;
Gently as life’s setting sun,
When the Christian’s course is run.

Night her solemn mantle spreads
O’er the earth as daylight fades;
All things tell of calm repose,
At the holy Sabbath’s close.

Peace is on the world abroad,
’Tis the holy peace of God;
Symbol of the peace within,
When the spirit rests from sin.

Still the Spirit lingers near,
Where the evening worshipper
Seeks communion with the skies,
Pressing onward to the prize.

Savior, may our Sabbaths be
Days of peace and joy in Thee!
Till in Heav’n our souls repose,
Where the Sabbath ne’er shall close.

There is a blessèd home,
Beyond this land of woe,
Where trials never come,
Nor tears of sorrow flow;
Where faith is lost in sight,
And patient hope is crowned,
And everlasting light
Its glory throws around.

There is a land of peace,
Good angels know it well;
Glad songs that never cease
Within its portals swell;
Around its glorious throne
Ten thousand saints adore
Christ, with the Father One,
And Spirit, evermore.

O joy all joys beyond,
To see the Lamb Who died,
And count each sacred wound
In hands, and feet, and side;
To give to Him the praise
Of every triumph won,
And sing through endless days
The great things He hath done.

Look up, ye saints of God,
Nor fear to tread below
The path your Savior trod
Of daily toil and woe;
Wait but a little while
In uncomplaining love
His own most gracious smile
Shall welcome you above.

There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found;
They safely lie and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground, low in the ground.

The storms that sweep the wintry sky
No more disturb their deep repose,
Than summer evening’s latest sigh
That shuts the rose, that shuts the rose.

Thy soul renewed by grace divine,
In God’s own image, freed from clay,
In Heav’n’s eternal sphere shall shine,
A star of day, a star of day.

The sun is but a spark of fire,
A transient meteor in the sky,
The soul, immortal as its Sire,
Shall never die, shall never die!

There is a Paradise of rest
On yonder tranquil shore,
Beyond the shadow and the gloom of night,
Where toil and tears are o’er.

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Meet me there, oh, meet me there,
At the dawning of that morning bright and fair;
Meet me there, oh, meet me there,
In the land beyond the river meet me there.

There is a city crowned with light,
Its joy no tongue can tell;
For they who enter shall behold the King,
And in His presence dwell.

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There is a crown laid up on high
That Christ the Lord will give
To those who patiently His coming wait,
And for His glory live.

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Oh, then be faithful unto death,
Press on the heavenly way,
That we may enter through the gates of life
To realms of endless day.

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There is an hour of peaceful rest,
To mourning wand’rers given;
There is a joy for souls distressed,
A balm for every wounded breast,
’Tis found above in Heav’n.

There is a soft, a downy bed,
Far from these shades of even—
A couch for weary mortals spread,
Where they may rest the aching head
And find repose in Heaven.

There is a home for weary souls
By sin and sorrow driven;
When tossed on life’s tempestuous shoals,
When storms arise, and ocean rolls,
And all is drear but Heav’n.

There, faith lifts up her cheerful eye,
To brighter prospects given;
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in Heav’n.

There, fragrant flowers, immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given;
There, rays divine disperse the gloom:
Beyond the confines of the tomb,
Appears the dawn of Heav’n.

Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love,
But there’s nobler rest above;
To that our longing souls aspire
With ardent love and strong desire.

In Thy blest kingdom we shall be
From every mortal trouble free;
No groans shall mingle with the songs,
Which warble from immortal tongues.

No rude alarms of raging foes,
No cares to break the long repose,
No midnight shade, no clouded sun,
But sacred, high, eternal noon.

O long expected day, begin;
Dawn on this world of woe and sin:
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death, and rest in God.

To realms of glory in the skies
I see my Lord returning,
While I, a stranger in the earth,
For heaven am ever yearning.
’Mid toil and sorrow here I roam,
Far from my heavenly Father’s home.

Yet visions of the promised land
By faith my soul obtaineth;
There shall I dwell forevermore
Where Christ in glory reigneth;
In mansions of that bright abode,
The city of the living God.

In that blest city is no night,
Nor any pain or weeping;
There is my treasure, there my heart,
Safe in the Savior’s keeping;
In heaven, my risen Lord, with Thee
May all my thought and living be.

How blessèd shall those servants be,
O Lord, at Thy returning,
Whose hearts are waiting still for Thee,
Whose lamps are trimmed and burning;
Them wilt Thou take to dwell with Thee
In joy and peace eternally.

When winds are raging o’er the upper ocean,
And billows wild contend with angry roar,
’Tis said, far down, below the wild commotion,
That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.

Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth,
And silver waves chime ever peacefully,
And no rude storm, how fierce so e’er it flieth,
Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.

So to the heart that knows Thy love, O Purest!
There is a temple, sacred evermore,
And all the babble of life’s angry voices
Dies in hushed stillness at its peaceful door.

Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth,
And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully,
And no rude storm, how fierce so e’er it flieth,
Disturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in Thee.

O Rest of rests! O Peace, serene, eternal!
Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never.
And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth
Fullness of joy, forever and forever.

O where shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?
’Twere vain the ocean’s depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole.

The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh;
’Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.

Beyond this vale of tears,
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.

There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath:
O what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death!

Lord God of truth and grace,
Teach us that death to shun;
Lest we be banished from Thy face,
And evermore undone.

Here would we end our quest:
Alone are found in Thee,
The life of perfect love—the rest
Of immortality.

When faint and weary toiling,
The sweat-drops on my brow,
I long to rest for labor,
To drop the burden now—
There comes a gentle chiding,
To quell each mourning sigh:
“Work while the day is shining,
There’s resting by and by.”

Refrain

Resting by and by,
There’s resting by and by;
We shall not always labor,
We shall not always cry;
The end is drawing nearer,
The end for which we sigh;
We’ll lay our heavy burdens down,
There’s resting by and by.

This life to toil is given,
And he improves it best
Who seeks by patient labor
To enter into rest;
Then pilgrim, worn and weary,
Press on, the goal is nigh;
The prize is straight before thee,
There’s resting by and by.

Refrain

Nor ask when overburdened,
You long for friendly aid,
“Why idle stands my brother,
No yoke upon him laid?”
The Master bids him tarry;
And dare you ask Him why?
“Go labor in My vineyard,
There’s resting by and by.”

Refrain

Wan reaper in the harvest,
Let this thy strength sustain,
Each sheaf that fills the garner
Brings you eternal gain;
Then bear the cross with patience,
To fields of duty hie;
’Tis sweet to work for Jesus—
There’s resting by and by.

Refrain

O that I could repent!
O that I could believe!
Thou by Thy voice the marble rent,
Thou by Thy voice the marble rent,
The rock in sunder cleave!

Thou, by Thy two-edged sword,
My soul and spirit part,
Strike with the hammer of Thy Word,
Strike with the hammer of Thy Word,
And break my stubborn heart!

Savior, and Prince of Peace,
The double grace bestow;
Unloose the bands of wickedness,
Unloose the bands of wickedness,
And let the captive go:

Grant me my sins to feel,
And then the load remove:
Wound, and pour in, my wounds to heal,
Wound, and pour in, my wounds to heal,
The balm of pardoning love.

For Thy own mercy’s sake
The cursèd thing remove;
And into Thy protection take
And into Thy protection take
The prisoner of Thy love:

In every trying hour
Stand by my feeble soul;
And screen me from my nature’s power,
And screen me from my nature’s power,
Till Thou hast made me whole.

This is Thy will, I know,
That I should holy be,
Should let my sin this moment go,
Should let my sin this moment go,
This moment turn to Thee:

O might I now embrace
Thy all-sufficient power;
And never more to sin give place,
And never more to sin give place,
And never grieve Thee more!

The Word of God is like a light
That shines serenely thro’ the night;
Its rays will light my weary way
To the realms of a fair, unending day.

Refrain

The Word of God is strong and sure,
Forevermore it shall endure,
When oceans cease to kiss the shore,
When suns shall set to rise no more;
’Mid crash of worlds it shall remain
Unshaken midst the starry rain,
Upon its firm foundation strong,
I will plant my feet thro’ the ages long.

The Word of God is like a sword
That pierces hearts, thus saith the Lord;
And like a hammer, weighty, strong,
That can break up the rocks of sin and wrong.

Refrain

The Word of God is like the bread
On which the hosts of old were fed;
From Heav’n it came to fill our need,
Hungry hearts it will satisfy indeed.

Refrain

The Word of God is like a fire,
It kindles in our hearts desire
To see its Author face to face
And to know all the fullness of His grace.

Refrain

The atoning work is done,
The Victim’s blood is shed;
And Jesus now is gone
His people’s cause to plead:
He stands in Heaven their great High Priest,
And bears their names upon His breast.

He sprinkles with His blood
The mercy-seat above;
For justice had withstood
The purposes of love:
But justice now objects no more,
And mercy yields her boundless store.

No temple made with hands
His place of service is;
In Heaven itself He stands,
A heavenly priesthood His:
In Him the shadows of the law
Are all fulfilled, and now withdraw.

And though awhile He be
Hid from the eyes of men,
His people look to see
Their great High Priest again:
In brightest glory He will come,
And take His waiting people home.

Great High Priest, we see Thee stooping,
With our names upon Thy breast,
In the garden groaning, drooping,
To the ground with sorrows pressed.
Weeping angels stand confounded,
To behold their Maker thus,
And shall we remain unwounded,
When we know ’twas all for us?

On the cross Thy body broken,
Cancels every penalty;
Tempted souls produce this token
All demands to satisfy.
All is finished; do not doubt it,
But believe your dying Lord;
Never reason more about it,
Only take Him at His Word.

Come, behold your Savior bleeding,
Streams of mercy from Him flow,
Whilst before His Father pleading
For those men who wrought His woe.
Lo, He cried, “Father, forgive them,
Though they do My life pursue,
I am willing to receive them,
For they know not what they do.”

Come, Thou everlasting Spirit,
Bring to every thankful mind
All the Savior’s dying merit,
All His suffering for mankind.
True recorder of His passion,
Now Thy living fire impart,
Now reveal Thy great salvation,
Preach His Gospel to our heart.

Lord, we fain would trust Thee solely;
’Twas for us Thy blood was spilt;
Gracious Savior, take us wholly,
Take and make us what Thou wilt.
Grant us now Thy heav’nly blessing,
Let Thy love our songs employ;
Then we’ll find Thy peace possessing,
In Thy service all our joy.

With joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
His bowels melt with love.

Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.

But spotless, innocent, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan’s fiery darts He bore,
And did resist to blood.

He in the days of feeble flesh
Poured out His cries and tears,
And in His measure feels afresh
What every member bears.

He’ll never quench the smoking flax,
But raise it to a flame;
The bruisèd reed He never breaks,
Nor scorns the meanest name.

Then let our humble faith address
His mercy and His power;
We shall obtain delivering grace
In the distressing hour.