2. There sorrow nor sighing can never infest,
Nor Satan annoy me, nor sinners molest,
But where rest perpetual the weary obtain,
Their harvest of joy and their infinite gain.
3. I too shall inherit the heavenly prize,

To scenes of bright glory my soul shall arise,
With rapture ineffable join the glad throng,
And filled with new wonder unite in the song.
4. If such be my portion, why should I complain?
Why cherish despondence, why sadness retain ?
Is sorrow then meet for an heir of the skies,
Who shortly to blessings unbounded shall rise?
5. No longer I'll murmur, no longer repine,
But joy 'mid all troubles since heaven is mine;
Then deep in oblivion be sunk every fear,

Be erased from my bosom each trace of despair.

6. How glorious the scheme that grace doth enhance,
Our hopes to enliven, our bliss to advance!
It fills me with transport, my joys overflow,
Too big for expression, extatic they grow.
7. Oh aid me, ye angels, its wonders to tell,
Encompass the theme, in full symphony dwell;
But still it enlarges-no angel can scan,

The schemes of redemption, the wonderful plan.

2 He saw me ruin'd in the fall,
Yet loved me notwithstanding all,
He saved me from my lost estate,
His loving-kindness, O, how great!
3 Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale,
Soon all my mortal powers must fail;
O! may my last expiring breath,
His loving-kindness sing in death.
4 Then let me mount and soar away,
To the bright world of endless day,
And sing with rapture and surprise,
His loving-kindness in the skies.

Saint's Sweet Home.

TUNE-Sweet Home.

1 'Mid scenes of confusion and creature complaints,
How sweet to my soul is communion with saints,
To find at the banquet of mercy there's room,
And feel in the presence of Jesus at home.
Home, &c.

2 Sweet bonds that unite all the children of peace!
And thrice precious Jesus whose love cannot cease,
Though oft from thy presence in sadness I roam,
I long to behold thee, in glory at home.

3 I sigh from this body of sin to be free,

Which hinders my joy and communion with thee: Though now my temptations like billows may foam, All, all will be peace, when I'm with thee at home. 6 I long, dearest Lord, in thy beauties to shine, No more as an exile, in sorrow to pine, And in thy dear image, arise from the tomb, With glorified millions to praise thee, at Home.