Our father's house, our heavenly home! 2 When tossed upon the waves of life, When fiercely howls the gathering storm, 3 In that pure home of tearless joy, There, there adieus are sounds unknown, 285. C. M. MRS. STEELL. 1 LIFE is a span, fleeting hour, 2 The once loved form, now cold and dead, And nature weeps her comforts fled, 3 But hope transcends the bounds of time, 4 Then cease, fond nature, dry thy tears, 286. C. M. WATTS. 1 WHY do we mourn departing friends? Or shake at death's alarms? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends To call them to his arms. 2 Are we not tending upwards too, As fast as time can move? Nor would we wish the hours more slow, 3 Why should we tremble to convey There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, 4 The graves of all his saints he blessed, Where should the dying members rest, 287.. 11s. M. EPISCOPAL COL. 1 I WOULD not live alway: I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way: I would not live alway,-no, welcome the tomb, Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. 2 Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode! [plains, Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns; 3 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, Their Savior and brethren transported to greet; While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the life of the soul. 1 NAKED as from the earth we came, 2 The dear delights we here enjoy, 3 'Tis God that lifts our comforts high, He gives, and, blessed be his name! 4 Peace, all our angry passions, then ; 5 If smiling mercy crown our lives, WATTS. 289. L. M. W. BOSTON COL. 1 WHY weep for those, frail child of woe, 2 Weep not for them; beside thee now O'er those who bliss of angels share. 3 Or round their Father's throne above, With raptured voice, his praise they sing, Or on his messages of love They journey with unwearied wing. 4 Space cannot check, thought cannot bound Who formed these million worlds around, 290. E 11s. & 8s. T. K. HERVEY. 1 We know thou hast gone to the home of thy rest, Then why should our souls be so sad; We know thou hast gone where the weary are blest, And the mourner looks up and is glad; Where love hath put off in the land of its birth, The stain it had gathered in this; And Hope, the sweet singer that gladdened the Lies asleep in the bosom of bliss. [earth, 2 We know thou hast gone where thy forehead is With the beauty that dwelt in thy soul-[starr'd Where the light of thy loveliness cannot be marr'd, Nor thy heart be turned back from its goal; We know thou hast drank of the water that flows 291. 8s. & 6s. W. B. TAPPAN. 1 THERE is an hour of peaceful rest, 2 There is a home for weeping souls, When tossed on life's tempestuous shore, 3 Now faith lifts up the tearful eye, 4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, Appears the dawn of heaven. |