There is a pure and peaceful wave,
That issues from the throne of love,
Whose waters gladden as they lave
The bright and heavenly courts above.
In living streams behold that tide
Through Christ the rock profusely burst;
And in his word, behold supplied
The fount for which our spirits thirst.
The pilgrim faint, who seems to sink
Beneath the sultry sky of time,
May here repose, and freely drink
The waters of that better clime.
And every soul may here partake
The blessings of the fount above;
And none who drink will e'er forsake
The crystal stream of boundless love.
Thus far the Lord has led me on,
Thus far his power prolongs my days;
And every evening shall make known
Some fresh memorial of his grace.
In every varied scene this day,
His hand has been my constant guide;
O may I ever love his way,
And in his gracious fear abide.
In hope I now recline to sleep;
Peace is the pillow for my head;
His ever-watchful eye will keep
A constant guard around my bed.
Faith in his love expels all fear
That his kind care will e'er depart;
When I awake, O may I hear
His still small voice within my heart.
With transport, Lord, our souls proclaim
Th' immortal honors of thy name;
Assembled round our Saviour's throne,
We make his ceaseless glories known.
Through all succeeding ages, he
The same hath been, the same shall be;
Immortal radiance crowns his head,
And light and joy around are spread.
The same his power his flock to guard;
The same his bounty to reward;
The same his faithfulness and love
To saints on earth, and saints above.
Let nature change, and sink, and die,
On him our souls will still rely;
For, leaning on our Saviour's breast,
We claim the promise of his rest.
Affliction's faded form draws nigh,
With wrinkled brow and tearful eye;
With sackloth on her bosom spread,
And ashes scattered o'er her head.
But deem her not a child of earth;
From heaven she draws her sacred birth:
Beside the throne of God she stands,
To execute his wise commands.
The messenger of grace, she flies
To train us for our sphere, the skies;
And onward as we move, the way
Becomes more smooth, more bright the
day.
Her weeds to robes of glory turn,
Her looks with kindling radiance burn,
And from her lips these accents steal,
God smites to bless, he wounds to heal.
Whilst far and wide thy scatter'd sheep,
Great Shepherd! in the desert stray;
Thy love, by some, is thought to sleep,
Unheedful of the wanderer's way.
But Truth declares-they shall be found,
Wherever now they darkling roam:
Thy voice shall thro' the desert sound,
And summon every wanderer home.
Upon the darker ways of sin,
Instead of terror's sword and flame,
Shall love descend-for love can win
Far more than terror can reclaim.
And they shall turn their wandering feet,
By grace redeem'd, by love controll'd,
Till all at last in Eden meet,
One happy, universal fold.
How vain is all beneath the skies!
How transient every earthly bliss!
How slender all the fondest ties,
That bind us to a world like this!
The evening cloud-the morning dew-
The withering grass-the fading flow'r—
Of earthly hopes are emblems true-
The glory of a passing hour!
But though earth's fairest blossoms die,
And all beneath the sky is vain,
There is a land whose confines lie
Beyond the reach of care and pain.
Then let the hope of joys to come,
Dispel our cares, and chase our fears:
Since God is ours, we're travelling home,
Though passing through a vale of tears.
When marshalled on the nightly plain, The glittering host
Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, From ev'ry host, from ev'ry
Saviour speaks, It is the Star of Bethlehem.
When marshalled on the nightly plain,
The glittering host bestud the sky,
One star alone of all the train,
Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.
Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,
From every host, from every gem;
But one alone the Saviour speaks,-
It is the Star of Bethlehem.
Once on the stormy seas I rode;
The storm was loud, the night was dark,
The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed
The wind that toss'd my found'ring bark;
Deep horror then my vitals froze,
Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,
When suddenly a star arose,―
It was the Star of Bethlehem.
It was my Guide, my Light, my All:
It made my dark forebodings cease;
And thro' the storm and danger's thrall,
It led me to the port of peace.
Now, safely moored, my perils o'er,
I'll sing beneath night's diadem,
Forever and for evermore,
It is the Star of Bethlehem.
When dread misfortune's tempests rise, Thou art the Way-and he who sighs
And roar through all the darkened skies, Amid this starless waste of woe
Where shall the anxious pilgrim gain
A shelter from the wind and rain?
Within the covert of thy grace,
To find a pathway to the skies,
A light from heaven's eternal glow-
By thee must come, thou Gate of Love,
Thro' which the saints undoubting trod;
O Lord, there is a hiding-place,
Where, unconcerned, we hear the sound, Till faith discovers, like the dove,
Though storm and tempest rage around. An ark, a resting-place in God.
When, wandering o'er the desert bare
Of burning sands and sultry air,
We've sought the cheerless region thro',
But found no stream to meet our view,-
'Tis then, the rivers of thy love,
Descending from thy throne above,
Supply our wants, and soothe our pain,
And raise our fainting souls again.
When in a weary land we tire,
And our exhausted powers expire,
With toil, and care, and heat oppressed,
Where shall our languid spirits rest?
0, who could bear the blasting ray,
And all the burden of the day,
Did not a Rock in Zion stand,
O'ershading all this weary land!
The ransomed spirit to her home,
The clime of cloudless beauty, flies;
No more on stormy seas to roam,
She hails her haven in the skies.
But cheerless are those heavenly fields,
That cloudless clime no pleasure yields,
There is no bliss in bowers above,
If thou art absent, Holy Love!
The cherub near the viewless throne,
Hath struck the harp with trembling
hand;
And one with incense-fire hath flown,
To touch with flame the angel-band;
But tuneless is the quivering string,
No melody can Gabriel bring,
Mute are its arches, when above
The harps of heaven wake not to Love!
Earth, sea and sky one language speak,
In harmony that soothes the soul;
'Tis heard when scarce the zephyrs wake,
And when on thunders thunders roll:
That voice is heard, and tumults cease,
It whispers to the bosom peace ;-
Speak, thou Inspirer from above,
And cheer our hearts, celestial Love!
Thou art the Truth-whose steady day
Shines on thro' earthly blight and bloom;
The pure, the everlasting ray,
The lamp that shines e'en in the tomb;
The light that out of darkness springs,
And guideth those that blindly go;
The word whose precious radiance flings
Its lustre upon all below.
Thou art the Life-the blessed Well,
With living waters gushing o'er,
Which those that drink shall ever dwell
Where sin and thirst are known no more.
Thou art the mystic pillar given,
Our lamp by night, our light by day;
Thou art the sacred bread from heaven;
Thou art the Life-the Truth-the Way.
We bless the Lord, whose tender care,
Our lives and all we are, display;
Whose constant love shall still prepare
To guide us in the narrow way.
We bless the Sun of Righteousness,
Whose glorious rays shall never cease,
Whose ways are ways of pleasantness,
Whose sacred paths are paths of peace.
The cloudy pillar all the day
Shall guide us to the heavenly light,
While brighter glories shall display
So let us learn where'er we go,
Thy cheering presence through the night
To yield obedience to thy call,
To seek thy footsteps here below,
And love thee as our All in All.
Dismiss us with thy blessing, Lord;
Help us to feed upon thy word;
All that has been amiss forgive,
And let thy truth within us live.
May we remember thou art good,
And with thy spirit be imbued;
Give every burdened soul release,
And bid us all depart in peace.
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