Hence, forgetful of the past,
May we all as brethren own,
Whom we hope to meet at last—
Round the everlasting throne.
Father! source of blessedness,
In thy strength triumphant ride;
Let the world thy Son confess,
And thy name be magnified!
Let thy word of truth prevail,
Scattering darkness, errors, lies;
Let all lands the treasure hail—
Link that binds us to the skies.
Let thy spirit, rich and free,
Copious shed his power divine,
Till (Creation's Jubilee!)
All Earth's jarring realms are thine!
Saints who once on earth endured—
Beating storm and thorny way,
Have the prize they sought secured,
And have enter'd perfect day.
Wiser taught,—with vision clear,
(Kindled from the light above)
Now their bitterest woes appear—
Charged with blessings, fraught with love:—
For, as earthly scenes withdrew,
In their false, but flattering guise,
They, rejoicing, fix'd their view—
On the mansions in the skies.
Art thou fearful of the end?
Dread not Jordan's swelling tide;
With the Saviour for thy friend!
With the Spirit for thy guide!
Why these half subdued alarms—
At the prospect of thy flight?
Has thy Father's house no charms?—
There to join the Saints in Light?
Terrors banish from thy breast,
Hope must solace, faith sustain;
Thou art journeying on to rest,
And with God shalt live and reign.