No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor death, shall reach the place;
No tears shall mingle with the songs
That warble from immortal tongues.
No rude alarms of raging foes
No cares to break the long repose-
No midnight shade, no clouded sun-
But sacred, high, eternal noon.
O long expected day begin ;
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death to rest with God.
REMARK, my soul, the narrow bounds
Of the revolving year;
How swift the weeks complete their rounds,
How short the months
So fast eternity comes on,
And that important day,
When all that mortal life has done,
God's judgment shall survey.
Yet like an idle tale we pass
The swift advancing year;
And study artful ways t'increase
The speed of its career.
Waken, O God, this trifling heart,
It's great concern to see;
That I may act the Christian part,
And give the year to thee.
So shall this course more grateful roll,
If future years arise;
Or this shall bear my smiling soul
To joy that never dies.
CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid
The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit every pious mind;
Come pour Thy joys on human kind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make Thy temple worthy Thee.
O source of uncreated light,
The Father's promised Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire;
Come, and Thy sacred unction bring,
To sanctify us, while we sing.
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in Thy sevenfold energy!
Thou strength of His Almighty hand,
Whose power doth heaven and earth command,
Proceeding Spirit, our defence,
Who does the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown'st thy gift with eloquence.
Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay Thy hand, and hold them down.
Chase from our minds the infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And Ïest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way.
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practice all that we believe:
Give us Thyself, that we may see
The Father, and the Son, by Thee.
Immortal honor, endless fame,
Attend the Almighty Father's name ;
The Saviour Son be glorified,
Who for lost man's redemption died:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to Thee.
YE angels who stand round the throne,
And view my Emmanuel's face,
In rapturous songs make him known
Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise :
He form'd you the spirits you are,
So happy, so noble, so good;
When others sunk down in despair,
Comfirm'd by his power ye stood.
Ye saints who stand nearer than they,
And cast your bright crowns at his feet,
His grace and his glory display,
And all his rich mercy repeat:
He snatch'd you from hell and the grave,
He ransom'd from death and despair;
For you he was mighty to save,
Almighty to bring you safe there.
O when will the period appear,
When I shall unite in your song?
I'm weary of lingering here,
And I to your Saviour belong!
I'm fetter'd and chain'd up in clay,
I struggle and pant to be free;
I long to be soaring away,
My God and my Saviour to see!
I want to put on my attire,
Wash'd white in the blood of the Lamb;
I want to be one of your choir,
And tune my sweet harp to his name;
I want-O I want to be there,
Where sorrow and sin bid adieu;
Your joy and your friendship to share,
To wonder and worship with you!
Ask the bird that soars on high,
Midway between earth and sky,
What he sees, when he is there,
Of the world's receding sphere.
He could teach, if he might say,
Heavenward as he bends his way,
How the wide world lessens fast,
In the growing distance lost.
Lesser objects lost to view,
Great ones are but little now-
All that once were bright and fair,
Lose their tints and disappear.
Doubt you, then, why they who rise
Near and nearer to the skies,
See on earth's diminish'd sphere,
Little that is worth their care?
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