Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light;

All rapture through and through
In God's most holy sight.
3 O Paradise! O Paradise!
'Tis weary waiting here,
I long to be where Jesus is,
To feel, to see Him near;
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light;

All rapture through and through
In God's most holy sight.

4 O Paradise! O Paradise!
I want to sin no more;
I want to be as pure on earth
As on thy spotless shore;
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light;

All rapture through and through
In God's most holy sight.

5 Lord Jesus, King of Paradise,
O keep me in Thy love,
And guide me to that happy land,
Of perfect rest above;

Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light;

All rapture through and through
In God's most holy sight.

P.M.

F. W. FABER. 1862.

1195 An innumerable company of angels.

1

HARK

Heb. 12. 22.

ARK, hark, my soul! angelic songs are swelling

[beat shore:

O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave

How sweet the truth those blessed strains are

telling

Of that new life when sin shall be no more!

Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night!

2 Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, "Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come; And, through the dark its echoes sweetly ringThe music of the Gospel leads us home. [ing, Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night!

3 Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea, And laden souls by thousands meekly stealing, Kind Shepherd! turn their weary steps to Angels of Jesus, angels of light, [Thee. Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night!

4 Rest comes at length: though life be long and dreary,

[past; The day must dawn, and darksome night be Faith's journey ends in welcome to the [at last. And heaven, the heart's true home, will come Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night!

weary,

5 Angels! sing on, your faithful watches keeping, Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; Till morning's joy shall end the night of weeping [love. And life's long shadows break in cloudless Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night! F. W. FABER. 1862.

8.6.8.6.8.8.

1196 Then face to face. 1 Cor. 13. 12.

1 IS sweet, O God, to sing Thy praise
Till all our spirits glow;

And we can almost seem to raise
The notes of heaven below;

Hearts all on fire, and feelings strong,
And souls all melting in our song.

2 But O! if songs like these are sweet,
Far sweeter those must be

Where all Thy ransomed ones shall meet
From sin and sorrow free;
Where naught of discord can intrude
To mar that mighty multitude.
3 How vast that heavenly temple is!
How ravishing the song!
Oh! how unspeakable the bliss
Of that exulting throng!
Swelling for evermore the strain
Of praise to Him who once was slain.
4 Ours, Saviour, may these raptures be
When earthly joys are past:

And having lived on earth to Thee,
May we exchange at last

This house these hours of praise and prayer,
For holier, happier worship there.

T. RAWSON TAYLOR. 1836.

P.M.

1197 A great multitude stood before the throne, and

1

before the Lamb.-Rev. 7. 9.
before

STAND up your God,

A multitude so bright,

Saints, martyrs, and confessors all
In radiant robes of white;

The Church below, would join you now,
And her sad soul would raise

2

3

4

5

From earthly tears and gloomy fears
In a glorious act of praise.

Ye, in the rest of God,
We, by His holy will,

As parts of the great armament

On distant service still.

A weary band, in foreign land,
Long exile we may see,

But faith can rise to yon fair skies,
For a while with you to be.

Ye, in the light of God,

Safe hushed from all alarm,

Out of the wild and surging waves,

Have passed into the calm.

No sinful stain, no grief, no pain,

Can ever mar your hymn!

But fears of death they cloy our breath,
And the mists around are dim!

So! stand before your God

In beautiful array,

Sound your uplifted trumpets loud

In your triumphant way;

Your fight is done, your victory won,
Yours is the "Morning Star!"
The sea of glass, gleams as ye pass,
And we hear your notes afar.

"Salvation to our God,

And to the Lamb once slain," We answer to your chorus high,

Worthy the Lamb" again.

For us to God, by His own blood,
Hath He redeemed from sin,
Him soon with you we hope to view,
And the self-same glory win.

G. RAWSON. 1865.

7.6.8.6.7.6.8.6.

1198 The glory which shall be revealed in us.

Rom. 8. 18.

1 EN thousand times ten thousand,
In sparkling raiment bright,
The armies of the ransomed saints,
Throng up the steeps of light:
"Tis finished! all is finished,

Their fight with death and sin;
Fling open wide the golden gates,
And let the victors in.

2 What rush of Hallelujahs

Fills all the earth and sky!
What ringing of a thousand harps
Bespeaks the triumph nigh!
O day for which creation

And all its tribes were made!
O joy, for all its former woes
A thousandfold repaid!

3 O then what raptured greetings
On Canaan's happy shore,
What knitting severed friendships up,
Where partings are no more!
Then eyes with joy shall sparkle
That brimmed with tears of late;
Orphans no longer fatherless,

Nor widows desolate.

4 Bring near Thy great salvation,
Thou Lamb for sinners slain;
Fill up the roll of Thine elect,
Then take Thy power and reign;
Appear, Desire of nations,

Thine exiles long for home;

Shew in the heavens Thy promised sign,

Thou Prince and Saviour come.

DEAN ALFORD. 1867.