_The Heavenly Canaan._ (1116)
There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers; Death, like a narrow sea, divides, This heavenly land from ours.
2 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.
But timorous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea, And linger, shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away.
3 O could we make our doubts remove, Those gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love, With unbeclouded eyes-- 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 sh.o.r.e.
Isaac Watts, 1709.
515 Varina. C.M.D.
_Heavenly Rest in Antic.i.p.ation_ (1118)
When I can read my t.i.tle clear To mansions in the skies, I"ll bid farewell to every fear And wipe my weeping eyes.
Should earth against my soul engage, And fiery darts be hurled, Then I can smile at Satan"s rage.
And face a frowning world.
2 Let cares like a wild deluge come Let storms of sorrow fall-- So I but safely reach my home, My G.o.d, my heaven, my all.
There I shall bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest, And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.
Isaac Watts, 1707.
516 Varina. C.M.D.
_The Society of Heaven._ (1126)
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 Oh, when, thou city of my G.o.d, Shall I thy courts ascend, Where congregations ne"er break up, And Sabbaths have no end?
There happier bowers than Eden"s bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know: Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes I onward press to you.
3 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.
Jerusalem! my glorious home!
My soul still pants for thee; Then shall my labors have an end, When I thy joys shall see.
Francis Baker (?), 1801.
517 Over There. P.M.
_The Home Over There._ (1141)
Oh, think of the home over there, By the side of the river of light, Where the saints all immortal and fair, Are robed in their garments of white.
Ref.--Over there, over there, Oh, think of the home over there; Over there, over there, over there, Oh, think of the home over there.
2 Oh, think of the friends over there, Who before us the journey have trod, Of the songs that they breathe on the air.
In their home in the palace of G.o.d.
Ref.--Over there, over there, Oh, think of the friends over there; Over there, over there, over there, Oh, think of the friends over there.
3 My Savior is now over there, There my kindred and friends are at rest; Then away from my sorrow and care, Let me fly to the land of the blest.
Ref.--Over there, over there, My Savior is now over there; Over there, over there, over there, My Savior is now over there.
4 I"ll soon be at home over there, For the end of my journey I see; Many dear to my heart, over there, Are watching and waiting for me.
Ref.--Over there, over there, I"ll soon be at home over there; Over there, over there, over there, I"ll soon be at home over there.
Rev. D.W.C. Huntington.
518 Sweet By and By. P.M.
_The Other Side._ (1150)
There"s a land that is fairer than day And by faith we can see it afar; For the Father waits over the way, To prepare us a dwelling-place there.
Cho.--In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful sh.o.r.e; In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful sh.o.r.e.
2 We shall sing on that beautiful sh.o.r.e The melodious songs of the blest, And our spirits shall sorrow no more, Not a sigh for the blessing of rest.
3 To our bountiful Father above We will offer the tribute of praise, For the glorious gift of his love.
And the blessings that hallow our days.
4 We shall rest on that beautiful sh.o.r.e, In the joys of the saved we shall share; All our pilgrimage toil will be o"er, And the conqueror"s crown we shall wear.
5 We shall meet, we shall sing, we shall reign, In the land where the saved never die; We shall rest, free from sorrow and pain, Safe at home in the sweet by and by.
S.F. Bennett.
519 Rest for the Weary. 8s & 7s.
_Sweet Fields of Eden._ (1148)
In the Christian"s home in glory, There remains a land of rest; There my Savior"s gone before me To fulfill my soul"s request.