Rejoice, rejoice, believers, and let your lights appear.
The evening is advancing, and darker night is near.
The Bridegroom is arising, and soon He draweth nigh.
Up, pray, and watch, and wrestle: At midnight comes the cry.

See that your lamps are burning; replenish them with oil.
And wait for your salvation, the end of earthly toil.
The watchers on the mountain proclaim the Bridegroom near.
Go meet Him as He cometh, with alleluias clear.

O wise and holy virgins, now raise your voices higher,
Until in songs of triumph ye meet the angel choir.
The marriage feast is waiting, the gates wide open stand;
Rise up, ye heirs of glory, the Bridegroom is at hand.

Our hope and expectation, O Jesus, now appear!
Arise, Thou Sun so longed for, over this benighted sphere!
With hearts and hands uplifted, we plead, O Lord, to see
The day of earth’s redemption that brings us unto Thee.

Ye saints, who here in patience your cross and sufferings bore,
Shall live and reign forever, when sorrow is no more.
Around the throne of glory the Lamb ye shall behold;
In triumph cast before Him your diadems of gold!

“Sleepers, wake!” the watch cry pealeth,
While slumber deep each eyelid sealeth:
Awake, Jerusalem, awake!
Midnight’s solemn hour is tolling,
And seraph-notes are onward rolling;
They call on us our part to take.
Come forth, ye virgins wise:
The Bridegroom comes, arise!
Alleluia! Each lamp be bright with ready light
To grace the marriage feast tonight.

Zion hears the voice that singeth
With sudden joy her glad heart springeth,
At once she wakes, she stands arrayed:
Her Light is come, her Star ascending,
Lo, girt with truth, with mercy blending,
Her Bridegroom there, so long delayed.
All hail! God’s glorious Son,
All hail! our joy and crown,
Alleluia! The joyful call we answer all,
And follow to the bridal hall.

Praise to Him Who goes before us!
Let men and angels join in chorus,
Let harp and cymbal add their sound.
Twelve the gates, a pearl each portal:
We haste to join the choir immortal
Within the Holy City’s bound.
Ear ne’er heard aught like this,
Nor heart conceived such bliss.
Alleluia! We raise the song, we swell the throng,
To praise Thee ages all along.

Too late? Ah, no, the pulse of life still throbs within thy breast;
And while that blessèd spark remains, thy soul may find a rest.
The Lord in mercy spares thee yet, His love to thee is great;
But do not tempt that love too far, or it may be too late.

Refrain

Too late, too late,
Soon ’twill be too late;
Too late, too late,
Soon ’twill be too late.

He stands, He knocks, He calls, He waits, He tarries at thy heart;
Canst thou reject His gracious call? And wilt thou say depart?
O, think on what a slender thread this moment hangs thy fate;
Arise—admit thy heav’nly Guest, or it may be too late.

Refrain

Behold His hands, His bleeding side, His crown of thorns behold!
And let His arms, extended wide, Thy trembling form enfold.
His mercy lengthens out thy days, His love to thee is great;
O, do not tempt that love too far, or it may be too late.

Refrain

Wake, awake, for night is flying;
The watchmen on the heights are crying:
Awake, Jerusalem, at last!
Midnight hears the welcome voices
And at the thrilling cry rejoices;
Come forth, ye virgins, night is past;
The Bridegroom comes, awake;
Your lamps with gladness take;
Alleluia! And for His marriage feast prepare
For ye must go and meet Him there.

Zion hears the watchmen singing,
And all her heart with joy is springing;
She wakes, she rises from her gloom;
For her Lord comes down all glorious,
The strong in grace, in truth victorious.
Her Star is risen, her Light is come.
Ah come, Thou blessèd One, God’s own belovèd Son:
Alleluia! We follow till the halls we see
Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee.

Now let all the heavens adore Thee,
And saints and angels sing before Thee,
With harp and cymbal’s clearest tone;
Of one pearl each shining portal,
Where we are with the choir immortal
Of angels round Thy dazzling throne;
Nor eye hath seen, nor ear hath yet attained to hear
What there is ours, but we rejoice and sing to Thee
Our hymn of joy eternally.

Wake, O wake! with tidings thrilling
The watchmen all the air are filling,
Arise, Jerusalem, arise!
Midnight strikes! no more delaying,
“The hour has come!” we hear them saying,
Where are ye all, ye virgins wise?
The Bridegroom comes in sight,
Raise high your torches bright!
Alleluya! The wedding swells loud and strong:
Go forth and join the festal throng!

Sion hears the watchmen shouting,
Her heart leaps up with joy undoubting,
She stands and waits with eager eyes;
See her Friend from Heaven descending,
Adorned with truth and grace unending!
Her light burns clear, her star doth rise.
Now come, Thou precious Crown,
Lord Jesu, God’s own Son!
Hosanna! Let us prepare to follow there,
Where in Thy supper we may share.

Every soul in Thee rejoices,
From men and from angelic voices
Be glory given to Thee alone!
Now the gates of pearl receive us,
Thy presence never more shall leave us,
We stand with angels round Thy throne.
Earth cannot give below
The bliss Thou dost bestow.
Alleluya! Grant us to raise to length of days,
The triumph-chorus of Thy praise.

Are you at your station ready,
For the near approaching train?
Are you fully contemplating
That a pass you will obtain?
Is there some important matter,
You have left behind undone,
That will keep you hesitating,
Till too late to make the run?

Refrain

O be ready for the glorious Gospel train,
Quickly make your preparation,
And your passport have in hand;
O be ready for the glorious Gospel train,
It will take you safely over,
To the glory spirit land.

Has your title been recorded,
That no question can be made?
Does your preparation warrant,
That you shall not be delayed?
When you see the headlight gleamings,
As around the curves they climb,
Have you any fears and doubtings,
That you’ll not get in on time?

Refrain

Are your garments nicely fitted,
That accepted you may be,
As a guest on board for Heaven,
Trav’ling for eternity?
Do you hold the bloodstained banner,
Of Emmanuel in your hand,
With your claims inscribed upon it,
And a ride for Heav’n demand?

Refrain

’Tis the only signal, brother,
That will make your passage sure,
That will stop the mighty engine,
And a seat to you secure;
That will give you close connection,
And a never failing hand,
That will take you safely over,
To the glory spirit land.

Refrain

Little children, Advent bids you
Meet your Lord upon His way;
Watch, for now the night is waning,
Soon will dawn the endless day.
Little children, Jesus bids you
Daily pray, “Thy kingdom come”;
Watch, and wait for His appearing,
Till He come to take you home.

Little children, He anoints you
With His spirit from above;
See then that your lamps be burning
With the fire of faith and love.
Little children, when we think not
We shall hear the awful cry,
“Go ye forth to meet the Bridegroom;
Haste, for Jesus draweth nigh.”

Little children, they shall meet Him,
Faithful children of the light;
They whose lamps are trimmed and burning,
And their garments pure and white.
O how blest to fall before Him,
O how blest His praise to sing.
Love Him, serve Him, and adore Him,
In the city of our King.

O Son of God, we wait for Thee,
In love for Thine appearing;
We know Thou sittest on the throne,
And we Thy Name are bearing,
Who trusts in Thee, may joyful be,
And see Thee, Lord, descending,
To bring us bliss unending.

We wait for Thee ’mid toil and pain,
In weariness and sighing;
But glad that Thou our guilt hast borne,
And canceled it by dying;
Hence cheerfully may we with Thee
Take up our cross and bear it,
Till we relief inherit.

We wait for Thee; here Thou hast won
Our hearts to hope and duty;
But while our spirits feel Thee near,
Our eyes would see Thy beauty;
We fain would be at rest with Thee
In peace and joy supernal,
In glorious life eternal.

We wait for Thee; sure Thou wilt come;
The time is swiftly nearing;
In this we also now rejoice,
And long for Thine appearing.
Oh, bliss ’twill be when Thee we see,
Homeward Thy people bringing,
With transport and with singing!

The wingèd herald of the day
Proclaims the morn’s approaching ray:
And Christ the Lord our souls excites,
And so to endless life invites.

Take up thy bed, to each He cries,
Who sick or wrapped in slumber lies;
And chaste and just and sober stand
And watch: My coming is at hand.

With earnest cry, with tearful care,
Call we the Lord to hear our prayer;
While supplication, pure and deep,
Forbids each chastened heart to sleep.

Do Thou, O Christ, our slumber wake:
Do Thou the chains of darkness break;
Purge Thou our former sins away,
And in our souls new light display.

All laud to God the Father be,
All praise, eternal Son, to Thee;
All glory, as is ever meet,
To God the holy Paraclete.

Hark! A voice divides the sky, happy are the faithful dead!
In the Lord who sweetly die, they from all their toils are freed;
Them the Spirit hath declared blessed, unutterably blessed;
Jesus is their great reward, Jesus is their endless rest.

Followed by their works, they go where their Head has gone before;
Reconciled by grace below, grace has opened mercy’s door;
Justified through faith alone, here they knew their sins forgiven,
Here they laid their burden down, hallowed, and made fit for heaven.

Who can now lament the lot of a saint in Christ deceased?
Let the world, who know us not, call us hopeless and unblessed:
When from flesh the spirit freed hastens homeward to return,
Mortals cry, “A man is dead!” Angels sing, “A child is born!”

Born into the world above, they our happy brother greet,
Bear him to the throne of love, place him at the Savior’s feet;
Jesus smiles, and says, “Well done, good and faithful servant thou;
Enter, and receive thy crown, reign with Me triumphant now.”

Angels catch the approving sound, bow, and bless the just award;
Hail the heir with glory crowned, now rejoicing with his Lord:
Fuller joys ordained to know, waiting for the general doom,
When the archangel’s trump shall blow, “Rise, ye dead, to judgment come!”

I am satisfied with Jesus,
But a question comes to me
As I ponder o’er His goodness,
Is He satisfied with me?

Refrain

Is my Master satisfied,
Is He satisfied with Me?
I am satisfied with Jesus;
Is He satisfied with me?

Am I kind in word, and tender,
Am I all I ought to be,
Am I always His defender:
Is He satisfied with me?

Refrain

Do I tell the blessèd story
Of the Christ on Calvary,
Doing all for His own glory:
Is He satisfied with me?

Refrain

“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 amid alarms,
It found him on the field,
A veteran, slumbering 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.

The pains of death are past,
Labor 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 Savior’s joy.

Come, labor on!
Who dares stand idle, on the harvest plain
While all around him waves the golden grain?
And to each servant does the Master say,
“Go work today.”

Come, labor on!
Claim the high calling angels cannot share—
To young and old the Gospel gladness bear;
Redeem the time; its hours too swiftly fly.
The night draws nigh.

Come, labor on!
The enemy is watching night and day,
To sow the tares, to snatch the seed away;
While we in sleep our duty have forgot, He slumbered not.

Come, labor on!
Away with gloomy doubts and faithless fear!
No arm so weak but may do service here:
By feeblest agents may our God fulfill
His righteous will.

Come, labor on!
No time for rest, till glows the western sky,
Till the long shadows o’er our pathway lie,
And a glad sound comes with the setting sun,
“Well done, well done!”

Come, labor on!
The toil is pleasant, the reward is sure;
Blessèd are those who to the end endure;
How full their joy, how deep their rest shall be,
O Lord, with Thee!

Servant of God, well done!
Thy glorious warfare’s past;
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
And thou art crowned at last.

Of all thy heart’s desire
Triumphantly possessed;
Lodged by the ministerial choir
In thy Redeemer’s breast.

In condescending love,
Thy ceaseless prayer He heard;
And bade thee suddenly remove
To thy complete reward.

Ready to bring the peace,
Thy beauteous feet were shod,
When mercy signed thy soul’s release,
And caught thee up to God.

With saints enthroned on high,
Thou dost thy Lord proclaim,
And still to God salvation cry,
Salvation to the Lamb!

O happy, happy soul!
In ecstasies of praise,
Long as eternal ages roll,
Thou seest Thy Savior’s face.

Redeemed from earth and pain,
Ah! when shall we ascend,
And all in Jesus’ presence reign
With our translated friend?

Come, Lord, and quickly come!
And, when in Thee complete,
Receive Thy longing servants home,
To triumph at Thy feet.

O help us, Lord, each hour of need
Thy heavenly succor give;
Help us in thought, and word, and deed,
Each hour on earth we live.

O help us, when our spirits bleed
With contrite anguish sore;
And when our hearts are cold and dead,
O help us, Lord, the more.

O help us through the prayer of faith
More firmly to believe;
For still the more the servant hath,
The more shall he receive.

If, strangers to Thy fold, we call,
Imploring at Thy feet
The crumbs that from Thy table fall,
’Tis all we dare entreat.

But be it, Lord of mercy, all,
So Thou wilt grant but this:
The crumbs that from Thy table fall
Are light, and life, and bliss.

O help us, Jesu, from on high,
We know no help but Thee;
O help us to so to live and die,
As Thine in Heav’n to be.

Up in Heaven, up in Heaven,
In the bright place far away,
He Whom bad men crucified,
Sitteth at His Father’s side,
Til the Judgment Day.

And He loves His little children,
And He pleadeth for them there,
Asking the great God of Heav’n
That their sins may be forgiven,
And He hears their prayer.

Never more a helpless Baby,
Born in poverty and pain,
But with awful glory crowned,
With His angels standing round,
He shall come again.

Then the wicked souls shall tremble,
And the good souls shall rejoice;
Parents, children, every one,
Then shall stand before His throne,
And shall hear His voice.

And all faithful holy Christians,
Who their Master’s work have done,
Shall appear at His right hand
And inherit the fair land
That His love has won.

There’s a great day coming, a great day coming;
There’s a great day coming by and by,
When the saints and the sinners shall be parted right and left,
Are you ready for that day to come?

Refrain

Are you ready? Are you ready?
Are you ready for the judgment day?
Are you ready? Are you ready?
For the judgment day?

There’s a bright day coming, a bright day coming;
There’s a bright day coming by and by.
But its brightness shall only come to them that love the Lord.
Are you ready for that day to come?

Refrain

There’s a sad day coming, a sad day coming;
There’s a sad day coming by and by,
When the sinner shall hear his doom: “Depart, I know you not!”
Are you ready for that day to come?

Refrain

Dear Lord, who dwellest with us now
In sad humanity,
Give us beneath the cross to bow
Which men have laid on Thee.

When hunger calls to us for bread
With childhood’s piteous plea,
Make us to know what Thou hast said
Of those who give to Thee.

When stranger knocketh at our door
For cheer and sympathy,
Our hearts would warmest greetings pour,
That we may welcome Thee.

When sick and sore distressed appeal
In man’s infirmity,
We’d haste the broken heart to heal
That we may comfort Thee.

When captive lives in mortal pains
Are clamoring to be free,
We’d strike away the heavy chains
That we may succor Thee.

Fountain of good, to own Thy love,
Our thankful hearts incline;
What can we render, Lord, to Thee,
When all the worlds are Thine?

But Thou hast needy brethren here,
Partakers of Thy grace,
Whose names Thou wilt Thyself confess
Before the Father’s face.

And in their accents of distress
Thy pleading voice is heard;
In them Thou may’st be clothed and fed
And visited and cheered.

Thy face with rev’rence and with love
We in Thy poor would see;
O may we minister to them,
And in them, Lord, to Thee.

God, how can we comprehend—though we’ve seen them times before—
Lines of people without end fleeing danger, want, and war?
They seek safety anywhere, hoping for a welcome hand!
Can we know the pain they bear? Help us, Lord, to understand!

You put music in their souls; now they struggle to survive.
You gave each one gifts and goals; now they flee to stay alive.
God of outcasts, may we see how you value everyone,
For each homeless refugee is your daughter or your son.

Lord, your loving knows no bounds; you have conquered death for all.
May we hear beyond our towns to our distant neighbors’ call.
Spirit, may our love increase; may we reach to all your earth,
Till your whole world lives in peace; till we see each person’s worth.

Heaven is here, where hymns of gladness
Cheer the toilers’ rugged way,
In this world where clouds of sadness
Often change to night our day;
Heaven is here, where misery lightened
Of its heavy load is seen,
Where the face of sorrow brightened,
By the deed of love hath been.

Where the sad, the poor, despairing,
Are uplifted, cheered, and blest,
Where in others’ labors sharing,
We can find our surest rest;
Where we heed the voice of duty,
Tread the path that Jesus trod;
This is Heaven, its peace, its beauty,
Radiant with the love of God.

When saw we Thee a-hungered, Lord,
And ministered unto Thee?
Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these,
Ye have done it unto Me.

Refrain

Blessèd lesson that we all may learn,
Blessèd plaudit that we all may earn.

When saw we Thee athirst, O Lord,
And ministered unto Thee?
Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these,
Ye have done it unto Me.

Refrain

When saw we Thee a stranger, sick,
Or in prison, and came to Thee?
Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these,
Ye have done it unto Me.

Refrain

Jesus, my Lord, how rich Thy grace!
Thy bounties, how complete!
How shall I count the matchless sum!
How pay the mighty debt!

High on a throne of radiant light
Dost Thou exalted shine;
What can my poverty bestow,
When all the worlds are Thine?

But Thou hast brethren here below,
The partners of Thy grace,
And wilt confess their humble names
Before Thy Father’s face.

In them Thou mayst be clothed and fed,
And visited and cheered,
And in their accents of distress
My Savior’s voice is heard.

Thy face with reverence and with love,
I in Thy poor would see;
O rather let me beg my bread,
Than hold it back from Thee!

Jesus, Thou divine Companion,
By Thy lowly human birth
Thou hast come to join the workers,
Burden bearers of the earth.
Thou, the Carpenter of Nazareth,
Toiling for Thy daily food,
By Thy patience and Thy courage,
Thou hast taught us toil is good.

They who tread the path of labor
Follow where Thy feet have trod;
They who work without complaining
Do the holy will of God.
Thou, the Peace that passeth knowledge,
Dwellest in the daily strife;
Thou, the Bread of heaven, broken
In the sacrament of life.

Every task, however simple,
Sets the soul that does it free;
Every deed of love and kindness
Done to man is done to Thee.
Jesus, Thou divine Companion,
Help us all to do our best;
Bless in our daily labor,
Lead us to the Sabbath rest.

Just a little kindness shown along the weary road;
Just a little lifting of another’s heavy load;
Just a little pity that is tenderly bestowed,
May win a soul for Jesus.

Refrain

In the name of Him Who died for you,
To your vow of service are you true?
Never, then, neglect it,
For when you least expect it,
You may win a soul for Jesus.

Just a little sacrifice of ease that we have earned;
Just a little sharing of a lesson we have learned;
Just a little stirring of the flame that low has burned,
May win a soul for Jesus.

Refrain

Just a little pleading in the name of Him Who died;
Just a little earnestness, like His, who is your Guide;
Just a little longing for someone lost at your side,
May win a soul for Jesus.

Refrain

Lord, lead the way the Savior went,
By lane and cell obscure;
And let love’s treasures still be spent,
Like His, upon the poor.

Like Him, through scenes of deep distress,
Who bore the world’s sad weight,
We, in their crowded loneliness,
Would seek the desolate.

For Thou hast placed us side by side
In this wide world of ill;
And, that Thy followers may be tried,
The poor are with us still.

Mean are all offerings we can make;
Yet Thou hast taught us, Lord,
If given for the Savior’s sake,
They lose not their reward.

Lord of Glory, who hast bought us with Thy lifeblood as the price,
Never grudging for the lost ones that tremendous sacrifice;
And with that hast freely given blessings countless as the sand,
To the unthankful and the evil with Thine own unsparing hand.

Grant us hearts, dear Lord, to yield Thee gladly, freely, of Thine own.
With the sunshine of Thy goodness melt our thankless hearts of stone.
Till our cold and selfish natures, warmed by Thee, at length believe
That more happy and more blessed ’tis to give than to receive.

Wondrous honor hast Thou given to our humblest charity.
In Thine own mysterious sentence, “Ye have done it unto Me.”
Can it be, O gracious Master, Thou dost deign for alms to sue,
Saying by Thy poor and needy, “Give as I have given you”?

Yes: the sorrow and the suffering, which on every hand we see,
Channels are for tithes and offerings due by solemn right to Thee;
Right of which we may not rob Thee, debt we may not choose but pay,
Lest that face of love and pity turn from us another day.

Lord of Glory, who hast bought us with Thy lifeblood as the price,
Never grudging for the lost ones that tremendous sacrifice;
Give us faith, to trust Thee boldly; hope, to stay our souls on Thee;
But O, best of all Thy graces, give us Thine own charity.

O do some good deed ev’ry day,
And speak kind words along the way;
O sing a glad and cheerful song,
For it may make some weak heart strong.

Refrain

O do some good deed ev’ry day,
Then will the loving Master say:
“Your deeds wrought in My Name shall be
Recorded as done unto Me.”

O help a brother bear his load
O’er life’s uphill and dreary road;
With those who need, share ev’ry day
The blessings God has sent your way.

Refrain

O seek, and you will always find
The sheaves of good to reap and bind;
There’s something you can do or say
For Christ the Master’s sake each day.

Refrain

O God of mercy! hearken now
Before Thy throne we humbly bow;
With heart and voice to Thee we cry
For all on earth who suffering lie.

We seek Thee where Thou dwell’st on high;
Beyond the glittering, starry sky:
We find Thee where Thou dwell’st below
Beside the beds of want and woe.

O let the healing waters spring,
Touched by Thy pitying angel’s wing;
With quick’ning pow’r new strength impart
To palsied will, to withered heart.

Where poverty in pain must lie,
Where little suffering children cry,
Bid us haste forth as called by Thee,
And in Thy poor Thyself to see.

O God of mercy, God of might,
In love and pity infinite,
Teach us, as ever in Thy sight,
To live our life to Thee.

And Thou Who cam’st on earth to die,
That fallen man might live thereby,
O hear us, for to Thee we cry
In hope, O Lord, to Thee.

Teach us the lesson Thou hast taught,
To feel for those Thy blood hath bought;
That every word and deed and thought
May work a work for Thee.

For all are brethren, far and wide,
Since Thou, O Lord, for all hast died;
Then teach us, whatsoe’er betide,
To love them all in Thee.

In sickness, sorrow, want or care,
Whate’er it be, ’tis ours to share;
May we, when help is needed, there
Give help as unto Thee.

And may Thy Holy Spirit move
All those who live, to live in love,
Till Thou shalt greet in Heaven above
All those who live to Thee.

O, sing we a carol all blithe and free,
And fit for our Christmas morn,
For the world is as cold as the cold can be,
Though its Lord on this day was born;
Though its Lord on this day was born:
’Tis a wintry time for the rich and poor,
And who should be driv’n from a Christian’s door?

Refrain

’Tis a wintry time for the rich and poor,
And who should be driven from a Christian’s door?
And who should be driv’n from a Christian’s door?

For the angel’s song at the birth of Christ,
With tidings of joy began;
And it rang with a glory to God in the highest,
And a brotherhood true for man;
Yet ’twas winter time for rich and poor,
When the shepherds came to the stable door.
Yet ’twas winter time for the rich and poor,

Refrain

True sages were they who to Bethlehem led,
Brought frankincense, myrrh, and gold,
Which they offered to Christ on His manger bed,
With a reverent love untold.
Yet ’twas winter time for rich and poor,
When the wise men knelt at the stable door.
Yet ’twas winter time for the rich and poor,

Refrain

Cannot we make our offerings now to Christ’s need,
When His poor all around we see?
“Inasmuch as to them we have done the deed,”
He will say, “Ye have done to Me.”
He will say, “Ye have done to Me.”
’Tis a wintry time for the rich and poor,
And who should be driv’n from a Christian’s door?

Refrain

O Jesus, Master, when today,
I meet, along the crowded way,
My burdened brothers—mine and Thine—
May then through me Thy Spirit shine.

To cheer them in their onward way,
Till evening ends the varied day,
To kindle so a growing light,
Where else might be but gloom and night.

Grant, too, that they my need may know,
As side by side we onward go—
An equal need of kindly thought,
And love like that which Thou hast taught.

Then give our hands a touch divine,
And to our voices tones like Thine,
As side by side we onward go,
Nor need each other’s name to know.

Lord, help me live from day to day
In such a self-forgetful way
That even when I kneel to pray
My prayer shall be for—Others.

Refrain

Others, Lord, yes others,
Let this my motto be,
Help me to live for others,
That I may live like Thee.

Help me in all the work I do
To ever be sincere and true
And know that all I’d do for You
Must needs be done for—Others.

Refrain

Let “Self” be crucified and slain
And buried deep: and all in vain
May efforts be to rise again,
Unless to live for—Others.

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And when my work on earth is done,
And my new work in Heav’n’s begun,
May I forget the crown I’ve won,
While thinking still of—Others.

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A poor wayfaring Man of grief
Hath often crossed me on my way,
Who sued so humbly for relief
That I could never answer nay.
I had not power to ask his name,
Whereto he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love; I knew not why.

Once, when my scanty meal was spread,
He entered; not a word he spake,
Just perishing for want of bread.
I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,
And ate, but gave me part again.
Mine was an angel’s portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.

I spied him where a fountain burst
Clear from the rock; his strength was gone.
The heedless water mocked his thirst;
He heard it, saw it hurrying on.
I ran and raised the suff’rer up;
Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped and returned it running o’er;
I drank and never thirsted more.

’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew
A winter hurricane aloof.
I heard his voice abroad and flew
To bid him welcome to my roof.
I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest
And laid him on my couch to rest;
Then made the earth my bed, and seemed
In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

Stripped, wounded, beaten nigh to death,
I found him by the highway side.
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,
Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.
I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.

In pris’n I saw him next, condemned
To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.
The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,
And honored him ’mid shame and scorn.
My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,
But my free spirit cried, “I will!”

Then in a moment to my view
The stranger started from disguise.
The tokens in His hands I knew;
The Savior stood before mine eyes.
He spake, and my poor name He named,
“Of Me thou hast not been ashamed.
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto Me.”

We’re “counting” the blessings, our joys we record,
The wonderful mercies like sunbeams outpoured;
But let us remember while praising the Lord,
Somebody else needs a blessing.

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Somebody else needs a blessing,
Somebody else needs a blessing;
We’ll let our lights shine to His glory divine,
Somebody else needs a blessing.

We’ll go, like the Savior, to comfort the sad;
With love’s healing portion we’ll make others glad,
Until, with fresh verdure, life’s deserts are clad;
Somebody else needs a blessing.

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We’ll tell the old story again and again;
Salvation for sinners, good will unto men,
Till Gospel songs echo from mountain to glen;
Somebody else needs a blessing.

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Lonely hearts to comfort,
Weary lives to cheer—
This is our endeavor,
This our mission here;
Seeking out the lost ones
On the mountains cold,
We would gladly bring them
To the Shepherd’s fold.

Pressing on together,
Doing good to all,
In the name of Jesus,
Lifting those who fall;
To the poor and friendless
Give with open hand—
This is our endeavor,
This the Lord’s command.

Onward, ever onward,
Trusting in the Lord,
Look we for the promise
Of a blest reward,
Robes and palms of glory,
Mansions bright and fair,
Welcome from the Savior,
Rest for ever there.

Our school is a vineyard, a garden of truth,
Where all can do something for Jesus;
And though we are just in the morning of youth,
We all can do something for Jesus;
The deep, rolling river that flows to the sea
Is made of the brooklet that sparkles so free;
A lesson, dear children, for you and for me,
We all can do something for Jesus.
The deep, rolling river that flows to the sea
Is made of the brooklet that sparkles so free.

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We all can do something for Jesus,
Something, something,
We all can do something for Jesus,
Something for Jesus.

A word to the erring, of kindness and love,
May often remind them of Jesus;
A song of our beautiful mansion above,
May lead a poor wand’rer to Jesus;
The acorn, when planted, though small it may be,
How quickly it grows to a wide spreading tree;
A lesson, dear children, for you and for me,
We all can do something for Jesus.
The acorn, when planted, though small it may be,
How quickly it grows to a wide spreading tree.

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Oh! sweeter, far sweeter, than riches or fame,
To feel we are working for Jesus;
The cup of cold water we give in His Name,
Will bring us the blessings of Jesus;
The brook and the acorn, the leaf and the tree
Are teaching a lesson to you and to me;
No matter how simple the effort may be,
We all can do something for Jesus.
The brook and the acorn, the leaf and the tree
Are teaching a lesson to you and to me.

Refrain

When thy heart, with joy o’erflowing,
Sings a thankful prayer,
In thy joy, O let thy brother
With thee share.

When the harvest sheaves ingathered
Fill thy barns with store,
To thy God and to thy brother
Give the more.

If thy soul, with power uplifted,
Yearn for glorious deed,
Give thy strength to serve thy brother
In his need.

Share with him thy bread of blessing,
Sorrow’s burden share;
When thy heart enfolds a brother
God is there.

And will the Judge descend,
And must the dead arise
And not a single soul escape
His all discerning eyes?

And from His righteous lips
Shall this dread sentence sound
And through the numerous guilty throng
Spread black despair around:

“Depart from Me, accursed,
To everlasting flame,
For rebel angels first prepared,
Where mercy never came”?

How will my heart endure
The terrors of that day
When earth and Heav’n before His face
Astonished shrink away?

But ere that trumpet shakes
The mansions of the dead,
Hark from the Gospel’s cheering sound
What joyful tidings spread:

Ye sinners, seek His grace
Whose wrath ye cannot bear;
Fly to the shelter of His cross
And find salvation there.

So shall that curse remove,
By which the Savior bled;
And the last awful day shall pour
His blessings on your head.

That awful day will surely come,
Th’appointed hour makes haste,
When I must stand before my Judge,
And pass the solemn test.

Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,
Thou Sovereign of my heart!
How could I bear to hear Thy voice
Pronounce the sound, “Depart!”

The thunder of that dismal word
Would so torment my ear,
’Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord,
With most tormenting fear.

What! to be banished from my Life,
And yet forbid to die!
To linger in eternal pain,
Yet death forever fly!

O, wretched state of deep despair!
To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where
I must not taste His love.

Jesus, I throw my arms around,
And hang upon Thy breast;
Without a gracious smile from Thee
My spirit cannot rest.

O, tell me that my worthless name
Is graven on Thy hands;
Show me some promise in Thy book
Where my salvation stands!

Give me one kind assuring word
To sink my fears again,
And cheerfully my soul shall wait
Her threescore years and ten.

Woe to the men on earth who dwell,
Nor dread the Almighty’s frown,
When God doth all His wrath reveal,
And shower His judgments down!

Sinners, expect those heaviest showers,
To meet your God prepare;
For, lo! the seventh angel pours
His phial in the air.

Lo! from their seats the mountains leap,
The mountains are not found;
Transported far into the deep,
And in the ocean drowned.

Who then shall live, and face the throne,
And face the Judge severe?
When heaven and earth are fled and gone,
O where shall I appear?

Now, only now, against that hour
We may a place provide;
Beyond the grave, beyond the power
Of hell, our spirits hide:

Firm in the all destroying shock,
May view the final scene;
For, lo! the everlasting Rock
Is cleft to take us in.

O how can they look up to Heaven,
And ask for mercy there,
Who never soothed the poor man’s pang,
Nor dried the orphan’s tear?

The dread omnipotence of Heaven
We every hour provoke;
Yet still the mercy of our God
Withholds the avenging stroke.

And Christ was still the healing friend
Of poverty and pain;
And never did imploring soul
His garment touch in vain.

May we with humble effort take
Example from above;
And thence the active lesson learn
Of charity and love!

But chiefly be the labor ours
To shade the early plant;
To guard from ignorance and guilt
The infancy of want;

To graft the virtues, ere the bud
The canker worm has gnawed,
And teach the rescued child to lisp
Its gratitude to God.

Deep and grand in tones sublime,
Hear the passing bells of time,
Ring the dirge of moments dead,
Golden hours whose joys are fled—
Still those bells of time we hear,
Tolling, tolling: Hark! the word:

Refrain

Eternity!
Eternity!
Eternity!

In the rosy morning fair,
In the sultry noonday glare,
In the dewy evening bright,
In the silent hush of night—
Still those bells of time we hear,
Tolling, tolling, loud and clear:

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When with breaking heart we bend,
O’er a tried and faithful friend,
When the parting hour draws nigh,
And we catch the last “goodbye”—
Still those bells of time we hear,
Tolling, tolling, loud and clear:

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Precious word! if safe we stand
On the Christian’s borderland
Trusting Him, whose loving smile
Lights and cheers us all the while—
Bells of time with joy we hear,
Tolling, tolling, sweet and clear:

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