5 Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er,-- Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.
1 How various and how new Are thy compassions, Lord! Each morning shall thy mercies show,-- Each night thy truth record.
2 Thy goodness, like the sun, Dawned on our early days, Ere infant reason had begun To form our lips to praise.
3 But we expect a day Still brighter far than this, When death shall bear our souls away To realms of light and bliss.
4 Nor shall that radiant day, So joyfully begun, In evening shadows die away Beneath the setting sun.
5 How various and how new Are thy compassions, Lord! Eternity thy love shall show, And all thy truth record.
1 There is an hour of peaceful rest To mourning wanderers given; There is a joy for souls distressed, A balm for every wounded breast; 'Tis found alone in heaven.
2 There is a home for weary souls, By sins and sorrows driven, When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, And all is drear--'tis heaven.
3 There faith lifts up the tearless eye, The heart no longer riven,-- And views the tempest passing by, Sees evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene in heaven.
4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, And joys supreme are given; There rays divine disperse the gloom; Beyond the dark and narrow tomb Appears the dawn of heaven.
1 Jerusalem! my glorious home! Name ever dear to me! When shall my labors have an end In joy, and peace and thee? When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And pearly gates behold? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, And streets of shining gold.
2 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know: Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes I onward press to you. Why should I shrink at pain and woe? Or feel at death dismay? I've Canaan's goodly land in view, And realms of endless day.
3 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there, Around my Saviour stand; And soon my friends in Christ below Will join the glorious band. Jerusalem! my glorious home! My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end, When I thy joys shall see.
1 Far from these scenes of night Unbounded glories rise, And realms of infinite delight, Unknown to mortal eyes.