No more the drops of piercing grief

Shall swell into mine eyes, Nor the meridian sun decline

Amidst those brighter skies.

There all the millions of His saints Shall in one song unite,

And each the bliss of all shall view With infinite delight.

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

THE HEAVENLY CANAAN.

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.

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.

Oh! 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 shore.

ISAAO WATTS.

THE NEW JERUSALEM;

OR, THE SOUL'S BREATHING AFTER THE HEAV

ENLY COUNTRY.

"Since Christ's fair truth needs no man's art,

Take this rude song in better part.”

O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem,

When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end-Thy joys when shall I see? O happy harbor of God's saints! O sweet and pleasant soil! In thee no sorrows can be foundNo grief, no care, no toil. In thee no sickness is at all,

No hurt, nor any sore;
There is no death nor ugly night,
But life for evermore.
No dimming cloud o'ershadows thee,
No cloud nor darksome night,
But every soul shines as the sun-
For God himself gives light.
There lust and lucre cannot dwell,

There envy bears no sway;
There is no hunger, thirst, nor heat,
But pleasures every way.
Jerusalem! Jerusalem!

Would God I were in thee!
Oh! that my sorrows had an end,
Thy joys that I might see!

No pains, no pangs, no grieving grief,
No woeful night is there;

No sigh, no sob, no cry is heard-

No well-away, no fear. Jerusalem the city is

Of God our king alone;

The lamb of God, the light thereof,

Sits there upon His throne.

O God! that I Jerusalem

With speed may go behold!

For why? the pleasures there abound Which here cannot be told.

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles

With carbuncles do shine-With jasper, pearl, and chrysolite, Surpassing pure and fine.

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Thy houses are of ivory,

Thy windows crystal clear,
Thy streets are laid with beaten gold-
There angels do appear.

Thy walls are made of precious stone,
Thy bulwarks diamond square,
Thy gates are made of orient pearl-

O God! if I were there!

Within thy gates nothing can come

That is not passing clean;
No spider's web, no dirt, nor dust,
No filth may there be seen.
Jehovah, Lord, now come away,

And end my griefs and plaints-
Take me to Thy Jerusalem,

And place me with Thy saints!

Who there are crowned with glory great, And see God face to face,

They triumph still, and aye rejoice

Most happy is their case.

But we that are in banishment,

Continually do moan;

We sign, we mourn, we sob, we weep-
Perpetually we groan.

Our sweetness mixed is with gall,

Our pleasures are but pain,
Our joys not worth the looking on-
Our sorrows aye remain.
But there they live in such delight,

Such pleasure and such play,
That unto them a thousand years
Seems but as yesterday.

O my sweet home, Jerusalem!

Thy joys when shall I seeThe king sitting upon His throne, And thy felicity?

Thy vineyards, and thy orchards,

So wonderfully rare,

Are furnished with all kinds of fruit,
Most beautifully fair.

Thy gardens and thy goodly walks,

Continually are green;

There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers

As nowhere else are seen.

There cinnamon and sugar grow,

There nard and balm abound;

No tongue can tell, no heart can think,
The pleasures there are found.

There nectar and ambrosia spring—
There music's ever sweet;

There many a fair and dainty thing
Are trod down under feet.

Quite through the streets, with pleasant sound,

The flood of life doth flow; Upon the banks, on every side, The trees of life do grow.

These trees each month yield ripened fruit

For evermore they spring;
And all the nations of the world
To thee their honors bring.
Jerusalem, God's dwelling-place
Full sore I long to see;

Oh! that my sorrows had an end,
That I might dwell in thee!

There David stands, with harp in hand,
As master of the choir;

A thousand times that man were blest
That might his music hear.
There Mary sings "Magnificat,"
With tunes surpassing sweet;
And all the virgins bear their part,
Singing about her feet.

"Te Deum" doth St. Ambrose sing, St. Austin doth the like;

Old Simeon and Zacharie

Have not their songs to seek. There Magdalene hath left her moan, And cheerfully doth sing, With all blest saints whose harmony Through every street doth ring.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!

Thy joys fain would I see;

Come quickly, Lord, and end my grief,
And take me home to Thee;
Oh! paint Thy name on my forehead,

And take me hence away,

That I may dwell with Thee in bliss,
And sing Thy praises aye.

Jerusalem, the happy home-
Jehovah's throne on high!
O sacred city, queen, and wife
Of Christ eternally!

O come.y queen with glory clad,

With honor and degree.

All fair thou art, exceeding bright

No spot there is in thee!

I long to see Jerusalem,

The comfort of us all;

For thou art fair and beautiful

None ill can thee befall. In thee, Jerusalem, I say,

No darkness dare appear―

No night, no shade, no winter foul

No time doth alter there.

No candle needs, no moon to shine,

No glittering star to light;

For Christ, the king of righteousness,
For ever shineth bright.

A lamb unspotted, white and pure,
To thee doth stand in lieu
Of light so great the glory is

Thine heavenly king to view.
He is the King of kings, beset

In midst His servants' sight;
And they, His happy household all,

Do serve Him day and night.
There, there the choir of angels sing-
There the supernal sort

Of citizens, which hence are rid
From dangers deep, do sport.
There be the prudent prophets all,
The apostles six and six,
The glorious martyrs in a row,
And confessors betwixt.

There doth the crew of righteous men
And matrons all consist-

Young men and maids that here on earth
Their pleasures did resist.

The sheep and lambs, that hardly 'scaped
The snare of death and hell,
Triumph in joy eternally,

Whereof no tongue can tell;
And though the glory of each one
Doth differ in degree,

Yet is the joy of all alike

And common, as we see.
There love and charity do reign,
And Christ is all in all,
Whom they most perfectly behold
In joy celestial.

They love, they praise they praise, they

love;

They "Holy, holy," cry;

They neither toil, nor faint, nor end, But laud continually.

Oh! happy thousand times were 1, If, after wretched days,

I might with listening ears conceive
Those heavenly songs of praise,
Which to the eternal king are sung

By happy wights above-
By saved souls and angels sweet,
We love the God of love.

Oh! passing happy were my state,
Might I be worthy found
To wait upon my God and king,

His praises there to sound;
And to enjoy my Christ above,
His favor and His grace,
According to His promise made,
Which here I interlace:

"O Father dear," quoth be, "let them Which Thou hast put of old

To me, be there where lo! I am

Thy glory to behold;

Which I with Thee, before the world

Was made in perfect wise,

Have had-from whence the fountain grest Of glory doth arise."

Again: "If any man will serve

Thee, let him follow me;

For where I am, he there, right sure,

Then shall my servant be."

And still: "If any man loves me,
Him loves my father dear,
Whom I do love to him myself
In glory will appear."

Lord, take away my misery,
That then I may be bold
With Thee, in Thy Jerusalem,
Thy glory to behold;
And so in Zion see my king,

My love, my Lord, my allWhere now as in a glass I see, There face to face I shall.

Oh! blessed are the pure in heart

Their sovereign they shall see; Oye most happy, heavenly wights,

Which of God's household be!

O Lord, with speed dissolve my bands,
These gins and fetters strong;
For I have dwelt within the tents

Of Kedar over long.

Yet search me, Lord, and find me out!

Fetch me Thy fold unto,

That all Thy angels may rejoice,

While all Thy will I do.

O mother dear! Jerusalem!

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end,
Thy joys when shall I see?

Yet once again I pray Thee, Lord,
To quit me from all strife,
That to Thy hill I may attain,

And dwell there all my life-
With cherubims and seraphims
And holy souls of men,

To sing Thy praise, O God of hosts!
Forever and amen!

PEACE.

My soul, there is a country Afar beyond the stars,

ANONYMOUS.

Where stands a winged sentry,
All skilful in the wars.
There, above noise and danger,

Sweet peace sits crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger

Commands the beauteous files.

He is thy gracious friend,

And (O my soul awake!)

Did in pure love descend,

To die here for thy sake.

If thou canst get but thither,

There grows the flower of peace-The rose that cannot wither

Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave, then, thy foolish ranges;
For none can thee secure,

But One who never changes-
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

HENEY VAUGHAN

OF HEAVEN.

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