The Otterbein Hymnal Part 89

I saw a way-worn trav'ler, In tattered garments clad, And struggling up the mountain, It seemed that he was sad; His back was laden heavy, His strength was almost gone, Yet he shouted as he journeyed, Deliverance will come.

Ref.--Then palms of victory, crowns of glory, Palms of victory I shall wear.

2 The summer sun was s.h.i.+ning, The sweat was on his brow, His garments worn and dusty, His step seemed very slow; But he kept pressing onward, For he was wending home; Still shouting as he journeyed, Deliverance will come.

3 The songsters in the arbor That stood beside the way Attracted his attention, Inviting his delay; His watchword being "Onward,"

He stopped his ears and run, Still shouting as he journeyed, Deliverance will come.

4 I saw him in the evening, The sun was bending low, He'd overtopped the mountain And reached the vale below; He saw the golden city,-- His everlasting home,-- And shouted loud, Hosanna, Deliverance will come!

5 While gazing on that city, Just o'er the narrow flood, A band of holy angels Came from the throne of G.o.d; They bore him on their pinions Safe o'er the das.h.i.+ng foam, And joined him in his triumph,-- Deliverance has come!

6 I heard the song of triumph They sang upon that sh.o.r.e, Saying, Jesus has redeemed us To suffer nevermore: Then, casting his eyes backward On the race which he had run, He shouted loud, Hosanna, Deliverance has come!

J.B. Matthias.

526 Home of the Soul. P.M.

_The Beautiful Land._

I will sing you a song of that beautiful land, The far away home of the soul; Where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand, While the years of eternity roll.

2 Oh, that home of the soul, in my visions and dreams Its bright jasper walls I can see; Till I fancy but thinly the veil intervenes Between the fair city and me.

3 That unchangeable home is for you and for me, Where Jesus of Nazareth stands, The King of all kingdoms forever is he, And he holdeth our crowns in his hands.

4 Oh, how sweet it will be in that beautiful land, So free from all sorrow and pain; With songs on our lips and with harps in our hands, To meet one another again.

Mrs. Ellen H. Gates.

527 Forever with the Lord. S.M.D.

_Eternal Blessedness._ (1134)

"Forever with the Lord!"

Amen, so let it be; Life from the dead is in that word, 'Tis immortality.

Here in the body pent, Absent from him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home; Nearer home, nearer home, A day's march nearer home.

2 My Father's house on high, Home of my soul, how near, At times, to faith's aspiring eye Thy golden gates appear.

Ah! then my spirit faints To reach the land I love; The bright inheritance of saints-- Jerusalem above; Home above, home above, Jerusalem above.

3 Yet doubts still intervene, And all my comfort flies; Like Noah's dove, I flit between Rough seas and stormy skies.

Anon the clouds depart, The wind and waters cease, While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart Expands the bow of peace; Bow of peace, bow of peace, Expands the bow of peace.

James Montgomery, 1835.

528 On Jordan's Stormy Banks. C.M.

_The Pleasing Prospect._ (1117)

On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, And cast a wishful eye To Canaan's fair and happy land, Where my possessions lie.

Cho.--We will rest in the fair and happy land, Just across on the evergreen sh.o.r.e, Sing the song of Moses and the Lamb, by and by, And dwell with Jesus evermore.

2 O'er all those wide-extended plains s.h.i.+nes one eternal day; There G.o.d the Son forever reigns And scatters night away.

3 When shall I reach that happy place, And be forever blest?

When shall I see my Father's face, And in his bosom rest?

4 Filled with delight, my raptured soul Would here no longer stay; Tho' Jordan's waves around me roll, Fearless I'd launch away.

Samuel Stennett, 1787.

529 Shall We Gather. 8s & 7s.

_The River of Life._

Shall we gather at the river Where bright angel feet have trod; With its crystal tide forever Flowing by the throne of G.o.d.

Cho.--Yes, we'll gather at the river, The beautiful, the beautiful river,-- Gather with the saints at the river That flows by the throne of G.o.d.

2 On the margin of the river Was.h.i.+ng up its silver spray, We will walk and wors.h.i.+p ever, All the happy, golden day.

3 Ere we reach the s.h.i.+ning river Lay we ev'ry burden down; Grace our spirits will deliver, And provide a robe and crown.

4 At the smiling of the river Mirror of the Savior's face, Saints whom death will never sever Lift their songs of saving grace.

5 Soon we'll reach the silver river, Soon our pilgrimage will cease; Soon our happy hearts will quiver With the melody of peace.

Robert Lowry.

530 The Future. 8s & 7s. D.

_The Future in G.o.d's Hands._

Oh, I often sit and ponder, When the sun is sinking low, Where shall yonder future find me?

Does but G.o.d in heaven know?

Shall I be among the living?

Shall I be among the free?

Wheresoe'er my path be leading, Savior, keep my heart with thee.

Cho.--Oh, the future lies before me, And I know not where I'll be; But where'er my path be leading, Savior, keep my heart with thee.

2 Shall I be at work, for Jesus, Whilst he leads me by the hand, And to those around be saying, Come and join this happy band?