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With Thy rebellious children.
And early with Thy mercy free Be soul and body filling, And late and early, Lord, may we Thy glorious praise be telling.
O chiefest joy! our hearts now cheer, And once more give us good times here, The days have been so evil.
We've borne the cross these weary years, Now let Thy sun be shining, Vouchsafe us laughter after tears, And pleasure after pining.
And evermore, O Lord! make known Thy works of wonder to Thine own, Thine honour to Thy children.
Be Thou our faithful friend and G.o.d, Establish us for ever!
And when we err from wisdom's road Give penitence and favour!
Turn Thou our hearts again to Thee, May all our works establish'd be, Crown all we do with blessing!
A REST HERE HAVE I NEVER.--PS. CXIX.
A rest here have I never, A guest on earth am I, Heav'n will be mine for ever, My Fatherland's on high.
Here up and down I'm driven; In rest eternal there, G.o.d's gift of grace is given That endeth toil and care.
What hath my whole life ever From youth been to this hour, But labour ceasing never, As long as I have pow'r To tell of; days of anguish I've past, and oft the night In sorrow did I languish Until the morning light.
And on the ways I've wander'd What storms have terrified, It blew, rain'd, lighten'd, thunder'd, Fear was on every side.
Hate, envy, opposition Rag'd, undeserv'd by me, This was the sad condition I must bear patiently.
So liv'd the honour'd fathers In whose footsteps we tread, From whom the saint oft gathers The wisdom he may need Of trial what full measure Had father Abraham, Ere he attain'd his pleasure, To his right dwelling came.
How rough too and uneven The way that Isaac trod, And Jacob, who had striven And had prevail'd with G.o.d; What bitter grief and wearing Felt he, what woe and smart; In fear and in despairing Oft sank his fainting heart.
The holy souls and blessed Went forward on their race, They chang'd with hearts distressed Their wonted dwelling-place: They hither went and thither, Great crosses bore each day, Till death came to deliver, Them in the grave to lay.
In patience am I giving Myself to just such woe?
Could I be better living Than such have liv'd below?
Here must we suffer ever, Here must we upwards strive; Who fights not well shall never In joy eternal live.
While on the earth I'm staying, My life shall thus be spent, I would not be delaying For aye in this strange tent.
Along the paths I wander That lead me to my home, G.o.d boundless comfort yonder Will give me when I come.
My home is high above me, Where angel hosts for aye Praise Him whose heart doth love me, Who ruleth all each day, Who aye preserves and beareth All in His hand of might, Who orders and prepareth What good seems in His sight.
For home my tir'd heart yearneth, I'd gladly thither go, From earth away it turneth From all I've here pa.s.s'd through.
The longer here I'm staying I less of pleasure taste, My spirit's thirst allaying, The world's an arid waste.
The dwelling is unholy, The trouble is too great.
Why com'st Thou, Lord, so slowly To free me from this state?
Come, make a happy ending Of all my wanderings, Relief by Thy pow'r sending, From all my sufferings.
Where I've so long remained Is not my proper home; When my life's end is gained, Then forth from it I'll come, What here I've needed ever I'll put it all away; When soul and body sever, Me in the grave they'll lay.
Thou, who my Joy art ever, And of my life the Light, When death life's thread doth sever, Bring'st me to heav'n so bright, To mansions everlasting, Where I shall ever shine, E'en as the sun, while tasting Of pleasures all divine.
There I'll be ever living Not merely as a guest, With those who crowns receiving From Thee are ever bless'd; I'll celebrate in glory Thine ev'ry mighty deed, My portion have before Thee, From every evil freed.
CHRISTIAN JOY IN DEATH.
My face, why should'st thou troubled be When thou of death art hearing?
Know it, it cannot injure thee, Contemplate it, ne'er fearing.
When thou dost know Death, all its woe Will soon be disappearing.
From the old serpent's face first tear The mask he is a.s.suming, And lo! no poison more is there, 'Tis harmless through the coming Of Christ to save, Who to the grave Went down, death thus o'ercoming.
Thou, Lord, didst break our foe's great pow'r, His sting thus from him taking, The b.u.t.t of scorn he's evermore, No mischief can be making.
Thy precious blood Damps his hot mood, His ardour's him forsaking.
'Twas sin that was the sting of death, And on to dying drove us, For ever done away sin hath Our Saviour, who did love us.
Its pow'r and might Is broken quite, Though it to grief may move us.
Now sin is dead, G.o.d's anger's turn'd, He's reconcil'd; the Saviour Hath borne the curse our debts had earn'd, Restor'd us to G.o.d's favour.
Who was our foe Our friend is now, Is full of grace for ever.
It cannot be, if Thou'rt my friend, That Thou would'st kill me ever; Thy Father's heart can ne'er intend To death me to deliver, And who is e'er Thy child and heir By ill is injur'd never.
But Thou, O Father! doest well When trials sore are grieving, When misery the life doth fill, The waves around us heaving, That us Thy hand To Fatherland Brings, from the floods relieving.
When from the angry skies storms break, And mountains quake before them, The thunder of Thy wrath doth shake The hills, and pealeth o'er them, Then dost Thou come And takest home Thine own, Thou carest for them.
When rage around our enemies, Our injury are seeking, When lions, wolves, and bears arise, Their vengeance on us wreaking, Thou tak'st Thy sheep, Dost safely keep Them near Thee, comfort speaking.
And if the world treats evilly Him who to Thee is cleaving, Thou sayest, "Come to me, my son!
Come, from me be receiving Love, pleasure, joy, That never cloy, That I for aye am giving."
And angel hosts then joyfully Descend, and round us hover, And tend the soul so carefully; And when life's course is over To G.o.d on high It peacefully Goes with them 'neath their cover.
The Lord His bride meets joyfully And saith, "Now welcome ever, I have espoused thee to me, To all mine own come hither!
Whom I 'fore thee Have brought to me, From yon world did deliver.
"Thou true and faithful wast in heart, Wast ne'er asham'd to own me, And now receivest thou thy part, With crown of joy I crown thee.
Thy part am I, Eternally Beside me I enthrone thee.
"Of thine eyes now I dry the flood, Thy bitter tears am stilling; Here turn'd is to thy highest good, The grief thou once wert feeling; Of thy grief's sea No one shall be Here save with rapture telling.
"All my belov'd ones clothe I here In pure white linen ever, With joy in heaven they appear, Here envy felt is never.
Here is no death, No cross nor scath, Good friends at all can sever."
O G.o.d! why should the thought of death With terror make me shiver?
'Tis he who'll from the yoke beneath Of mis'ry me deliver.
From torture He Will set me free, I can regret it never.
For death is the Red Sea to me, Through which on dry land ever Thine Israel, so dear to Thee, Pa.s.s to the land of favour, Where milk and wine Flow ever in Full streams that cease shall never.