2 Ye must not idly stand,
His sacred voice who hear;
Arm for the strife the feeble hand,
The holy standard rear.
3 Nought doth the world afford,
But toil must be the price;
Wilt thou not, servant of the Lord,
Then toil for paradise?
4 Awake, ye sons of light,
Strive till the prize be won;
Far spent already is the night;
The day comes brightening on.
The Christian's Contest, Rest, and Hope.
1 THROUGH Sorrow's night and danger's way,
Amid the deepening gloom,
The soldiers of an injured King
Are marching to the tomb.
2 Their service done, securely laid
In this their last retreat,
Unheeded o'er their silent dust
The storms of life shall beat.
3 Yet not thus lifeless in the grave
The vital spark shall lie;
O'er nature's ruins it shall rise,
To reach its kindred sky.
4 Then heaven's soft dew o'er every eye
Shall shed its mildest rays;
And the long silent dust shall wake
In strains of endless praise.
1 0, SPEED thee, Christian, on thy way,
And to thy armor cling;
With girded loins the call obey
That grace and mercy bring.
2 There is a battle to be fought,
An upward race to run,
A crown of glory to be sought,
A victory to be won.
3 0, faint not, Christian, for thy sighs
Are heard before His throne;
The race must come before the prize,
The cross before the crown.
1 THE Christian warrior, see him stand
In the whole armor of his God;
The spirit's sword is in his hand;
His feet are with the gospel shod.
2 In panoply of truth complete,
Salvation's helmet on his head,
With righteousness, a breastplate meet,
And faith's broad shield before him spread.
3 With this omnipotence he moves;
From this the alien armies flee;
Till more than conqueror he proves,
Through Christ, who gives him victory.
4 Thus strong in his Redeemer's strength,
Sin, death and hell he tramples down,-
Fights the good fight; and takes at length,
Through mercy, an immortal crown.
1 RELIGION! in its blessed ray
All thought of hopeless sorrow flies,
Despair and anguish melt away
Where'er its healing beams arise.
How dark our sinful world would be.
A flowerless desert, dry and drear!
Did not this light, O God, from thee
Its gloom dispel, its aspect cheer.
2 Oh! by it many a heart is soothed,
Which else would be with sorrow crushed,
And many a dying pillow smoothed,
And sob of parting anguish hushed.
Across the troubled sky of time
It doth the bow of promise bend,
A symbol of that cloudless clime
That waits the soul when time shall end.
3 Religion may its holy light
Our footsteps guide to paths of peace!
Our solace in deep sorrow's night,
Our stay as mortal powers decrease.
With this our guide, we care not when
Death's signal to depart is given;
Its word shall bring our spirits then
The calm and holy peace of heaven.
The Humble and Pure Accepted.
1 THUS saith the high and lofty One:
"I sit upon my holy throne;
My name is God, I dwell on high,
Dwell in my own eternity.
2" But I descend to worlds below;
On earth I have a mansion too;
The humble spirit, and contrite,
Is an abode of my delight.
3 "The humble soul my words revive;
I bid the mourning sinner live;
Heal all the broken hearts I find,
And ease the sorrows of the mind.
4" The soul that seeks me shall obtain
Immortal wealth and heavenly gain;
Eternal life is his reward,
Life, and the favor of the Lord."
1 THEY who seek the throne of grace
Find that throne in every place;
If we love a life of prayer,
God is present everywhere.
2 in our sickness, in our health;
In our want or in our wealth,
If we look to God in prayer,
God is present everywhere.
3 When our earthly comforts fail,
When the woes of life prevail,
'Tis the time for earnest prayer,
God is present everywhere.
my soul, in every strait,
To thy Father, come and wait;
He will answer every prayer,
God is present everywhere.
1 SWEET is the prayer whose holy stream
In earnest pleading flows!
Devotion dwells upon the theme,
And warm and warmer glows.
2 Faith grasps the blessing she desires;
Hope points the upward gaze;
And Love, celestial Love, inspires
The eloquence of praise.
3 But sweeter far the still, small voice,
Unheard by human ear,
When God has made the heart rejoice,
And dried the bitter tear.
4 No accents flow, no words ascend;
All utterance faileth there;
But Christian spirits comprehend,
And God accepts the prayer.
The Warfare of the Soul.
1 AWAKE, my soul! lift up thine eyes !
See where thy foes against thee rise,
In long array a numerous host;
Awake, my soul! or thou art lost.
2 See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all the train
Has thousands and ten thousands slain.
3 Come then, my soul! now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal shield;
Put on the armor from above,
Of heavenly truth and heavenly love.
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