How happy is the pilgrim’s lot!
How free from every anxious thought,
From worldly hope and fear!
Confined to neither court nor cell,
His soul disdains on earth to dwell,
He only sojourns here.

This happiness in part is mine,
Already saved from self design,
From every creature love;
Blest with the scorn of finite good,
My soul is lightened of its load,
And seeks the things above.

The things eternal I pursue,
A happiness beyond the view
Of those that basely pant
For things by nature felt and seen;
Their honors, wealth, and pleasures mean
I neither have nor want.

I have no sharer of my heart,
To rob my Savior of a part,
And desecrate the whole;
Only betrothed to Christ am I,
And wait His coming from the sky,
To wed my happy soul.

I have no babes to hold me here;
But children more securely dear
For mine I humbly claim,
Better than daughters or than sons,
Temples divine of living stones,
Inscribed with Jesus’ Name.

No foot of land do I possess,
No cottage in this wilderness,
A poor wayfaring man,
I lodge awhile in tents below;
Or gladly wander to and fro,
Till I my Canaan gain.

Nothing on earth I call my own;
A stranger, to the world unknown,
I all their goods despise;
I trample on their whole delight,
And seek a country out of sight,
A country in the skies.

There is my house and portion fair,
My treasure and my heart are there.
And my abiding home;
For me my elder brethren stay,
And angels beckon me away,
And Jesus bids me come.

“I come,” Thy servant, Lord, replies,
“I come to meet Thee in the skies,
And claim my heavenly rest”;
Now let the pilgrim’s journey end,
Now, O my Savior, Brother, Friend.
Receive me to Thy breast!

Rise up, O men of God!
Have done with lesser things.
Give heart and mind and soul and strength
To serve the King of kings.

Rise up, O men of God!
The kingdom tarries long.
Bring in the day of brotherhood
And end the night of wrong.

Rise up, O men of God!
The church for you doth wait,
Her strength unequal to her task;
Rise up and make her great!

Lift high the cross of Christ!
Tread where His feet have trod.
As brothers of the Son of Man,
Rise up, O men of God!

Dear Lord, on this Thy servant’s day,
Who left for Thee the gold and mart,
Who heard Thee whisper, “Come away,”
And followed with a single heart,

Give us, amid earth’s weary moil,
And wealth for which men cark and care,
’Mid fortune’s pride, and need’s wild toil,
And broken hearts in purple rare,

Give us Thy grace to rise above
The glare of this world’s smelting fires;
Let God’s great love put out the love
Of gold, and gain, and low desires.

Still, like a breath from scented lime
Borne into rooms where sick men faint,
His voice comes floating through all time,
Thine own evangelist and saint.

Still sweetly rings the Gospel strain
Of golden store that knows not rust:
The love of Christ is more than gain,
And heavenly crowns than yellow dust.

Great and fair is she, our land,
High of heart and strong of hand;
Dawn is on her forehead still,
In her veins youth’s arrowy thrill.
Hers are riches, might and fame;
All the earth resounds her name;
In her roadsteads navies ride:
Hath she need of aught beside?

Power Unseen, before whose eyes
Nations fall and nations rise,
Grant she climb not to her goal
All-forgetful of the Soul!
Firm in honor be she found,
Justice-armed and mercy-crowned,
Blest in labor, blest in ease,
Blest in noiseless charities.

Unenslaved by things that must
Yield full soon to moth and rust,
Let her hold a light on high
Men unborn may travel by.
Mightier still she then shall stand,
Molded by Thy secret hand,
Power Eternal, at whose call
Nations rise and nations fall.

Lift up your hearts to things above,
Ye followers of the Lamb,
And join with us to praise His love,
And glorify His Name.

To Jesus’ Name give thanks and sing,
Whose mercies never end:
Rejoice! rejoice! the Lord is king;
The King is now our friend!

We, for His sake, count all things loss;
On earthly good look down;
And joyfully sustain the cross,
Till we receive the crown.

O let us stir each other up,
Our faith by works to approve,
By holy, purifying hope,
And the sweet task of love!

Love us, though far in flesh disjoined,
Ye lovers of the Lamb;
And ever bear us on your mind,
Who think and speak the same:

You on our minds we ever bear,
Whoe’er to Jesus bow;
Stretch out the arms of faith and prayer,
And lo! we reach you now.

Surely we now your souls embrace,
With you we now appear
Present before the throne of grace,
And you, and Christ, are here.

The blessings all on you be shed,
Which God in Christ imparts;
We pray the Spirit of our Head
Into your faithful hearts.

Mercy and peace your portion be,
To carnal minds unknown,
The hidden manna, and the tree
Of life, and the white stone.

Live till the Lord in glory come,
And wait His Heaven to share:
Our Savior now prepares our home:
Go on—we’ll meet you there.

Lord, when I all things would possess,
I crave but to be Thine;
O lowly is the loftiness
Of these desires divine.

Each gift but helps my soul to learn
How boundless is Thy store;
I go from strength to strength, and yearn
For Thee, my Helper, more.

How can my soul divinely soar,
How keep the shining way,
And not more tremblingly adore,
And not more humbly pray?

The more I triumph in Thy gifts,
The more I wait on Thee;
The grace that mightily uplifts
Most sweetly humbleth me.

The heaven where I would stand complete
My lowly love shall see,
And stronger grow the yearning sweet,
O Holy One! for Thee.

How happy are they
Who the Savior obey,
And have laid up their treasure above!
Tongue can never express
The sweet comfort and peace
Of a soul in its earliest love.

That sweet comfort was mine,
When the Father divine
I first found in the blood of the Lamb;
When my heart first believed,
What a joy I received,
What heaven in Jesus’ Name!

’Twas a heaven below
My Redeemer to know,
And the angels could do nothing more,
Than to fall at His feet,
And the story repeat,
And the Lover of sinners adore.

Jesus all the day long
Was my joy and my song:
O that all His salvation might see!
“He hath loved me,” I cried,
“He hath suffered and died,
To redeem a poor rebel like me.”

O the rapturous height
Of that holy delight
Which I felt in the life giving blood!
By my Savior possessed,
I was perfect blest,
As if filled with the fullness of God.

Vain are all terrestrial pleasures,
Mixed with dross the purest gold:
Seek we, then, for heavenly treasures,
Treasures never waxing old.
Let our best affections center
On the things around the throne:
There no thief can ever enter;
Moth and rust are there unknown.

Earthly joys no longer please us;
Here would we renounce them all;
Seek our only rest in Jesus,
Him our Lord and Master call.
Faith, our languid spirits cheering,
Points to brighter worlds above;
Bids us look for His appearing;
Bids us triumph in His love.

May our light be always burning,
And our loins be girded round,
Waiting for our Lord’s returning,
Longing for the welcome sound.
Thus the Christian life adorning,
Never need we be afraid,
Should He come at night or morning
Early dawn, or evening shade.