526
C. M.

WATTS. Heaven invisible and holy. 1 NOR eye hath seen, nor ear has heard,

Nor sense nor reason known, What joys the Father has prepared

For those that love the Son. 2 But the goed Spirit of the Lord

Reveals a heaven to come ; The beams of glory in his word

Allure and guide us home.
3 Pure are the joys above the sky,

And all the region peace ;
No wanton lips nor envious eye

Can see or taste the bliss.

4 Those holy gates forever bar

Pollution, sin, and shame;
None shall obtain admittance there

But followers of the Lamb.

527
C. M.

WATTS. The humble Worship of Heaven. 1 FATHER, I long, I faint to see

The place of thine abode;
I'd leave thy earthly courts, and flee

Up to thy seat, my God.
2 Here I behold thy distant face,

And 'tis a pleasant sight;
But to abide in thine embrace

Is infinite delight.

3 I'd part with all the joys of sense

To gaze upon thy throne;
Pleasure springs fresh forever thence,

Unspeakable, unknown.
4 There all the heavenly hosts are seen;

In shining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigor in

With wonder and with love.
5 Then at thy feet, with awful fear,

The adoring armies fall;
With joy they shrink to nothing there

Before the Eternal All.

528
L. M.

WATTS. The Vanity of this world, and the Hope of a better. Ps. 17. 1 WHAT sinners value I resign;

Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine;
I shall behold thy blissful face,

And stand complete in righteousness. 2 This life's a dream, an empty show;

But the bright world to which I go
Hath joys substantial and sincere ;

When shall I wake and find me there?
3 O glorious hour! O blest abode !
I shall be near and like

my

God!
And flesh and sin no inore control

The sacred pleasures of the soul.
4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground,

Till the last trumpet's joyful sound,
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Savior's image rise.

529
C. M.

WATTS. Felicity above. 1 THERE'S nothing round these painted skies,

Or round this dusty clod,
Nothing, my soul, that's worth thy joys,

Or lovely as thy God.
2 'Tis heaven on earth to taste his love,

To feel his quickening grace; And all the heaven I hope above

Is but to see his face.

3 Why move my years in slow delay?

O God of ages, why?
Let the spheres cleave, and mark my way

To the superior sky.

530
C. M.

DODDRIDGE. Imperishable Riches. 1 THESE mortal joys, how soon they fade!

How swift they pass away!
The dying flower reclines its head,

The beauty of a day.
2 But there are joys that cannot die,

With God laid up in store
Treasure beyond the changing sky,

Brighter than golden ore.
3 To that my rising heart aspires,

Secure to find its rest,
And glories in such wide desires

Of all their wish possessed.

4 The seeds which piety and love

Have scattered here below,
In the fair, fertile fields above,

To ample harvests grow.

531
C. M.

DODDRIDGE. The near Approach of Salvation. 1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes,

And raise your voices high ;
Awake, and praise that sovereign love,

That shows salvation nigh.
2 On all the wings of time it flies;

Each moment brings it near ; Then welcome, each declining day;

Welcome, each closing year.
3 Not many years their round shall run,

Nor many mornings rise,
Ere all its glories stand revealed

To our admiring eyes.
4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course;

Ye mortal powers, decay ;
Fast as ye bring the night of death,

Ye bring eternal day.

532
Č. M.

Watts.
The Hope of Heaven a Support under Trials.
1 WHEN I can read my title clear

To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,

And wipe my weeping eyes.

2 Let cares like a wild deluge come,

And storms of sorrow fall,
May I but safely reach my home,

My God, my heaven, my all, —
3 There shall I bathe my weary soul

In seas of heavenly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll

Across my peaceful breast.

533
C. M.

WATTS. The Martyrs glorified. 1 “THESE glorious minds, how bright they shine!

Whence all their white array ? How came they to the happy seats

Of everlasting day?"
2 From torturing pains to endless joys

On fiery wheels they rode,
And strangely washed their raiment white

In Jesus' dying blood.
3 Now they approach a spotless God,

And bow before his throne ;
Their warbling harps and sacred songs

Adore the Holy One.
4 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls,

And hunger fly as fast;
The fruit of life's immortal tree

Shall be their sweet repast.
5 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock

Where living fountains rise, And love divine shall wipe away

The sorrows of their eyes.