Fight we must, but should not fear;
One that loves us to
the end: Forward, then, with
cour-age go, Long we shall not dwell below; Soon the
joy-ful news will come," Child, your Father calls, Come home."
2 In the way, a thousand snares
Lie to take us unawares;
Satan, with malicious art,
Watches each unguarded heart:
But from Satan's malice free,
Saints shall soon in glory be;
Soon the joyful news will come,
"Child, your Father calls, Come home."
3 But of all the foes we meet,
None so oft misled our feet,
None betray us into sin,
Like the foes that dwell within:
Yet let nothing spoil your peace,
Christ shall also conquer these;
Then the joyful news will come,
Child, your father calls, Come home."
1 CHILDREN of the heavenly King,
As ye journey sweetly sing;
Sing your Savior's worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways.
We are traveling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now and we
Soon their happiness shall see.
2 Shout ye little flock, and blest,
You near Jesus throne shall rest;
There your seats are now prepared,
There your kingdom and reward.
Fear not, brethren, joyful stand
On the borders of
Jesus Christ, your Father's son,
Bids you undismay'd GO ON.
2 His crimes with inward grief and shame,
The penitent confessed;
Then turned his dying eyes to Christ,
And thus his prayer addressed;
3 'Jesus thou Son and heir of heaven,
"Thou spotless Lamb of God,
"I see thee bathed in sweat and tears,
'And weltering in thy blood.
4 'Yet quickly from these scenes of wo,
'In triumph thou shalt rise,
'Burst through the gloomy shades of death,
And shine above the skies.'
5 'Amid the glories of that world,
'Dear Savior, think on me;
'And in the vict'ries of thy death,
'May I a sharer be.'
6 His prayer the dying Jesus heard
And instantly replied,
'To-day thy parting soul shall be
'With me in paradise.'
Godly sorrow arising from the sufferings of Christ.
1 Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
And did my Jesus die?
Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
2 Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, thine,
And bath'd in its own blood,
While all exposed to wrath of men,
The glorious Suff'rer stood !
3 Was it for crimes that I had done,
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
4 Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in,
When Christ the glorious Savior died,
For man, the creature's sin.
5 Thus might I hide my blushing face,
While his dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt mine eyes in tears.
6 But drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe;
Here, Lord, I give myself away;
'Tis all that I can do.
1. The voice of free grace Cries, escape to the mountain, For
Adam's lost race, Christ has opened a fountain, For sin and transgres
sion And every pollution,The blood it flows free-ly In
streams of sal - va-tion. The blood it flows free-ly In
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