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But unbelief, that hateful thing,
Oft makes me sigh, when I should sing
Of confidence in heaven.

I'M GOING HOME.

I'm going home!-prepare thy bridal wreath,
My Saviour bids my happy spirit come :
Damp not with tears the Christian's bed of death,
Rejoice! I'm going home.

Earth has its cares: for three-score years and ten,
My lot has been through thorny paths to roam.
I would not tread those desert plains again ;-

They're-I'm going home.

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The dove hath found her rest, the storm-tossed found
A place of refuge, from the dashing foam
Of grief's wild billows; thither am I bound.

Joy! joy!-I'm going home!

Earth's flowers all fade-there fadeless beauties bloom; Earth's sunniest light is shaded by the tomb; Earth's loves all slumber in the vault below;

Death dwells not in that home.

I see the city of the blest on high,

With the freed spirit's ken. I come-I come!

Ye calling voices! catch my heart's reply:

Home-home! I'm going home!

ADORATION.

Lard Glenelg.

O WORSHIP the King, all glorious above!
O gratefully sing his unchangeable love!
Our shield and defender, the Ancient of Days,
Pavilion'd in splendour, and girded with praise.
O tell of his might, O sing of his grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space;
His chariots of wrath deep thunder-clouds form,
And dark is his path on the wings of the storm.
Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.

O measureless might, ineffable love,
While angels delight to hymn thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall lisp to thy praise.

THE CALL OF THE HEATHEN FOR HELP.

Beber.

FROM Greenland's icy mountains,

From India's coral strand,

Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand:

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From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Java's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile:
In vain with lavish kindness,
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness,

Bows down to wood and stone.

Can we, whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high-
Can we, to man benighted,
The lamp of life deny ?
Salvation, oh, salvation,
The joyful sound proclaim;

Till each remotest nation

Has learn'd Messiah's name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, his story!
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole;
Till o'er our ransom'd nature,
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss return to reign.

LONGING FOR HEAVEN.

Comper.

To Jesus, the crown of my hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone;
O, bear me, ye cherubim, up,

And waft me away to his throne.

My Saviour! whom absent I love;
Whom not having seen, I adore ;
Whose name is exalted above

All glory, dominion, and power.

Break off, then, these bonds that detain
My soul from her portion in thee;
O strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.

When that happy era begins,

When array'd in thy glories I shine, Nor grieve any more, by my sins,

The bosom on which I recline

Oh, then shall the veil be removed,
And round me thy brightness be pour'd,
I shall meet him whom absent I love,
I shall see whom unseen I adored.

And then never more shall the fears,

And trials, temptations, and woes, Which darken this valley of tears,

Intrude on my blissful repose!

Or, if yet remember'd above,
Remembrance no sadness shall raise ;
They'll be but new signs of thy love,

New themes for thy wonder and praise.

The stroke which from sin and from pain
Shall set me eternally free,

Will strengthen and rivet the chain
Which binds me, my Saviour, to thee.

SHELTER FROM THE STORM.

From the German.

WHEN rising winds and rain descending,
A near approaching storm declare,
With trembling speed, their wings extending,
The birds to sheltering trees repair.

So I by faith with sin opprest,

Would refuge take, O Christ, in thee; Thou art my hiding-place and rest,

From every evil shelter me.

SPEAK GENTLY.

SPEAK gently!--it is better far

To rule by love than fear.

Speak gently-let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here.

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