His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet, is heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet, the air is perfumed with His breath.
His lips as the fountain of righteousness flow, that waters the garden of grace,
From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know, and bask in the smiles of His face.

O! Thou in Whose presence my soul takes delight, on Whom in affliction I call;
My Comfort by day, and my Song in the night, my Hope, my Salvation, my All—
Where dost Thou at noontide resort with Thy sheep, to feed on the pastures of love?
Say, why in the valley of death should I weep, or ’lone in the wilderness rove?

O! why should I wander an alien from thee, and cry in the desert for bread?
Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see, and smile at the tears I have shed.
Ye daughters of Zion, declare, have you seen the Star that on Israel shone?
Say if in your tents my Belovèd hath been, and where, with His flock, is He gone?

“What is thy Belovèd, thou dignified fair? What excellent beauties hath He?
His charms and perfections be pleased to declare, that we may embrace Him with thee.”
This is my Belovèd, His form is divine; His vestments shed odor around;
The locks on His head are as grapes on the vine, when autumn with plenty is crowned.

The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow in the vales, on the banks of the streams
On His cheeks in the beauty of excellence blow; His eyes are as quivers of beams.
His voice as the sound of the dulcimer sweet is heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet, the air is perfumed with His breath.

There’s a light upon the mountains,
And the day is at the spring,
When our eyes shall see the beauty
And the glory of the King:
Weary was our heart with waiting,
And the night watch seemed so long,
But His triumph day is breaking
And we hail it with a song.

In the fading of the starlight
We may see the coming morn;
And the lights of men are paling
In the splendors of the dawn;
For the eastern skies are glowing
As with light of hidden fire,
And the hearts of men are stirring
With the throbs of deep desire.

There’s a hush of expectation
And a quiet in the air
And the breath of God is moving
In the fervent breath of prayer;
For the suffering, dying Jesus
Is the Christ upon the throne,
And the travail of our spirit
Is the travail of His own.

He is breaking down the barriers,
He is casting up the way;
He is calling for His angels
To build up the gates of day:
But His angels here are human,
Not the shining hosts above;
For the drum beats of His army
Are the heartbeats of our love.

Hark! we hear a distant music
And it comes with fuller swell;
’Tis the triumph song of Jesus,
Of our King, Immanuel!
Go ye forth with joy to meet Him!
And, my soul, be swift to bring
All thy sweetest and thy dearest
For the triumph of our King!

Come away to the skies, my belovèd, arise
And rejoice in the day thou wast born;
On this festival day, come exulting away,
And with singing to Zion return.

We have laid up our love and our treasure above,
Though our bodies continue below.
The redeemed of the Lord will remember His Word,
And with singing to paradise go.

Now with singing and praise let us spend all the days
By our heavenly Father bestowed,
While His grace we receive from His bounty, and live
To the honor and glory of God!

For the glory we were first created to share,
Both the nature and kingdom divine,
Now created again that our lives may remain
Throughout time and eternity Thine.

We with thanks do approve the design
Of that love that hath joined us to Jesus’ Name;
Now united in heart, let us never more part,
Till we meet at the feast of the Lamb.

There, Oh! there at His feet, we shall all likewise meet,
And be parted in body no more;
We shall sing to our lyres, with the heavenly choirs,
And our Savior in glory adore.

Hallelujah! we sing to our Father and King,
And His rapturous praises repeat:
To the Lamb that was slain, Hallelujah again!
Sing all Heaven and fall at His feet!

O voice of the Belovèd!
Thy bride hath heard Thee say,
“Rise up, My love, My fair one,
Arise and come away.
For lo, ’tis past, the winter,
The winter of thy year;
The rain is past and over,
The flowers on earth appear.

“And now the time of singing
Is come for every bird;
And over all the country
The turtle dove is heard;
The fig her green fruit ripens,
The vines are in their bloom;
Arise and smell their fragrance;
My love, My fair one, come!”

Yea, Lord! Thy Passion over,
We know this life of ours
Hath passed from death and winter
To leaves and budding flowers;
No more Thy rain of weeping
In drear Gethsemane;
No more the clouds and darkness,
That veiled Thy bitter Tree.

Our Easter Sun is risen!
And yet we slumber long,
And need Thy Dove’s sweet pleading
To waken prayer and song.
Oh breathe upon our deadness,
Oh shine upon our gloom;
Lord, let us feel Thy presence
And rise and live and bloom.

When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil;
When summer’s balmy showers refresh the mower’s toil;
When winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood;
In God the earth rejoiceth still and owns his Maker good.

The birds that wake the morning and those that love the shade;
The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade;
The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way,
The moon and stars their Master’s Name in silent pomp display.

Shall man, the lord of nature, expectant of the sky,
Shall man alone, unthankful, his little praise deny?
No; let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be,
Thee, Master, must we always love, and Savior, honor Thee.

The flowers of spring may wither, the hope of summer fade,
The autumn droop in winter, the birds forsake the shade;
The winds be lulled, the sun and moon forget their old decree;
But we, in nature’s latest hour, O Lord, will cling to Thee!

Speak, I pray Thee, gentle Jesus!
O, how passing sweet Thy words,
Breathing o’er my troubled spirit
Peace which never earth affords.
All the world’s distracting voices,
All th’enticing tones of ill,
At Thy accents mild, melodious,
Are subdued, and all is still.

Tell me Thou art mine, O Savior,
Grant me an assurance clear;
Banish all my dark misgivings,
Still my doubting, calm my fear.
O, my soul within me yearneth
Now to hear Thy voice divine;
So shall grief be gone for ever,
And despair no more be mine.

Christ will me His aid afford,
Never to fall, never to fall,
While I find my precious Lord,
Sweeter than all, sweeter than all.

Refrain

Jesus is now, and ever will be,
Sweeter than all the world to me,
Since I heard His loving call,
Sweeter than all, sweeter than all.

I will follow all the way,
Hearing Him call, hearing Him call,
Finding Him, from day to day,
Sweeter than all, sweeter than all.

Refrain

Tho’ a vessel I may be,
Broken and small, broken and small,
Yet His blessings fall on me,
Sweeter than all, sweeter than all.

Refrain

When I reach the crystal sea,
Voices will call, voices will call,
But my Savior’s voice will be
Sweeter than all, sweeter than all.

Refrain

A long time I wandered in darkness and sin,
And wondered if ever the light would shine in;
I heard Christian friends speak of raptures divine,
And I wished—how I wished—that their Savior were mine.
I wished He were mine, yes, I wished He were mine;
I wished—how I wished—that their Savior were mine.

I heard the glad Gospel of “good will to men”;
I read “whosoever” again and again;
I said to my soul, “Can that promise be thine?”
And then began hoping that Jesus was mine.
I hoped He was mine, yes, I hoped He was mine,
And then began hoping that Jesus was mine.

Oh, mercy surprising! He saves even me!
“Thy portion forever,” He says, “will I be”;
On His Word I am resting—assurance divine:
I am “hoping” no longer, I know He is mine.
I know He is mine, yes, I know He is mine,
I’m hoping no longer—I know He is mine.

I lift my heart to Thee, Savior divine;
For Thou art all to me, and I am Thine;
Is there on earth a closer bond than this,
That my Belovèd’s mine, and I am His?

Thine am I by all ties; but chiefly Thine,
That through Thy sacrifice Thou, Lord, art mine.
By thine own cords of love, so sweetly wound,
Around me, I to Thee am closely bound.

To Thee, Thou bleeding Lamb, I all things owe—
All that I have, and am, and all I know.
All that I have is now no longer mine,
And I am not mine own; Lord, I am Thine.

How can I, Lord, withhold life’s brightest hour
From Thee; or gathered gold, or any power?
Why should I keep one precious thing from Thee;
When Thou hast giv’n Thine own dear self for me?

I pray Thee, Savior, keep me in Thy love,
Until death’s holy sleep shall me remove
To that fair realm where, sin and sorrow o’er,
Thou and Thine own are one forevermore.

O Lamb of God, whose love divine
Draws virgin souls to follow Thee;
And bids them earthly joys resign
If so they may Thy beauty see;

The saint of whom we sing today
Was faithful to Thy loving call,
And, casting other hopes away,
Took Thee to be her God, her all.

To Thee she yielded up her will,
Her heart was drawn to Thine above;
Content if Thou wouldst deign to fill
Thine handmaid with Thy perfect love.

Beneath Thy cross she loved to stand,
Like Mary in Thy dying hour,
That blessings from Thy piercèd hand
Might clothe her with undying power;

With power to win the crown of light
For virgin souls laid up on high,
And ready keep her lamp at night
To hail the Bridegroom drawing nigh.

And surely Thou at last didst come
To end the sorrows of Thy bride,
And bear her to Thy peaceful home
With Thee for ever to abide.

All glory, Jesu, for the grace
That drew Thy saint to follow Thee;
Grant us too in Thy love a place
Both now and through eternity.

’Tis night—but O the joyful morn
Will soon our waiting spirits cheer;
Yon gleams of coming glory warn
Thy saints, O Lord, that Thou art near.

Lord of our hearts, beloved of Thee,
Weary of earth, we sigh to rest,
Supremely happy, safe and free,
For ever on Thy tender breast.

To see Thee, love Thee, feel Thee near,
Nor dread, as now, Thy transient stay;
To dwell beyond the reach of fear
Lest joy should wane or pass away.

Children of hope, belovèd Lord!
In Thee we live, we glory now;
Our joy, our rest, our great reward,
Our diadem of beauty, Thou!

And when exalted, Lord, with Thee,
Thy royal throne at length we share;
To everlasting Thou shalt be
Our diadem, our glory there!