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Verse 1

For ever 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.

Verse 2

My Father’s house on high,
Home of my soul, how near,
At times, to faith’s foreseeing eye,
Thy golden gates appear:
Ah! then my spirit faints
To reach the land I love,
The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above.

Verse 3

I hear at morn and even,
At noon and midnight hour,
The choral harmonies of heaven
Earth’s Babel tongues o’erpower:
Then, then I feel that He,
Remembered or forgot,
The Lord, is never far from me,
Though I perceive Him not.

Verse 4

For ever with the Lord!
Father, if ’tis Thy will,
The promise of that faithful word
E’en here to me fulfil;
Be Thou at my right hand,
Then can I never fail,
Uphold Thou me, and I shall stand;
Fight, and I must prevail.

Verse 5

So when my latest breath
Shall rend the veil in twain,
By death I shall escape from death,
And life eternal gain.
Knowing as I am known,
How shall I love that word,
And oft repeat before the throne,
“For ever with the Lord!”

Verse 1

God bless our native land;
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night:
When the wild tempests rave,
Ruler of wind and wave,
Do Thou our country save
By Thy great might.

Verse 2

For her our prayers shall rise
To God, above the skies:
On Him we wait;
Thou who art ever nigh,
Guarding with watchful eye,
To Thee aloud we cry,
God save the State.

Verse 1

Hark! the voice of Jesus crying,
“Who will go and work to-day?
Fields are white, and harvests waiting;
Who will bear the sheaves away?”
Loud and long the Master calleth,
Rich reward He offers free;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
“Here am I; send me, send me”?

Verse 2

If you cannot cross the ocean,
And the heathen lands explore,
You can find the heathen nearer,
You can help them at your door.
If you cannot give your thousands,
You can give the widow’s mite;
And the least you give for Jesus
Will be precious in His sight.

Verse 3

If you cannot speak like angels,
If you cannot preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus,
You can say He died for all.
If you cannot rouse the wicked
With the judgment’s dread alarms,
You can lead the little children
To the Saviour’s waiting arms.

Verse 4

Let none hear you idly saying,
“There is nothing I can do,”
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you:
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
“Here am I; send me, send me.”

Verse 1

Hark! the voice of Jesus crying,
“Who will go and work to-day?
Fields are white, and harvests waiting;
Who will bear the sheaves away?”
Loud and long the Master calleth,
Rich reward He offers free;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
“Here am I; send me, send me”?

Verse 2

If you cannot cross the ocean,
And the heathen lands explore,
You can find the heathen nearer,
You can help them at your door.
If you cannot give your thousands,
You can give the widow’s mite;
And the least you give for Jesus
Will be precious in His sight.

Verse 3

If you cannot speak like angels,
If you cannot preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus,
You can say He died for all.
If you cannot rouse the wicked
With the judgment’s dread alarms,
You can lead the little children
To the Saviour’s waiting arms.

Verse 4

Let none hear you idly saying,
“There is nothing I can do,”
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you:
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
“Here am I; send me, send me.”

Verse 1

I’m but a stranger here,
Heaven is my home;
Earth is a desert drear,
Heaven is my home:
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand;
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.

Verse 2

What though the tempest rage,
Heaven is my home;
Short is my pilgrimage,
Heaven is my home:
And time’s wild wintry blast
Soon shall be overpast;
I shall reach home at last,
Heaven is my home.

Verse 3

There, at my Saviour’s side,
Heaven is my home;
I shall be glorified,
Heaven is my home.
There are the good and blest,
Those I love most and best;
And there I too shall rest,
Heaven is my home.

Verse 4

Therefore I murmur not,
Heaven is my home;
Whate’er my earthly lot,
Heaven is my home:
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord’s right hand;
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.

Verse 1

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.

Verse 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.

Verse 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.

Verse 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.

Verse 1

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.

Verse 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.

Verse 1

Jesus, still lead on,
Till our rest be won;
And, although the way be cheerless,
We will follow, calm and fearless:
Guide us by Thy hand
To our fatherland.

Verse 2

If the way be drear,
If the foe be near,
Let not faithless fears o’ertake us;
Let not faith and hope forsake us,
For, through many a foe,
To our home we go.

Verse 3

When we seek relief
From a long-felt grief,
When oppressed by new temptations,
Lord, increase and perfect patience;
Show us that bright shore
Where we weep no more.

Verse 4

Jesus, still lead on,
Till our rest be won:
Heavenly Leader, still direct us,
Still support, console, protect us,
Till we safely stand
In our fatherland.

O Lord, we thank Thee that Thou hast, in some measure, drawn back the veil, and shown us the things which are at Thy right hand. And we beseech Thee to help each of us, so long as we tarry here below, that we may press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. May we forget the things that are behind, our failures, our disappointments, our attainments, or only remember them to make us more earnest in seeking that to-morrow may not be as this day, but much more conformed to Thy holy will. Help all of us, we pray Thee, to live as those whose home is beyond the stars, and in the depths of God. And may this our life here below be so used by us as that it shall fit us to be ‘partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light.’

‘Train them up in exact obedience to yourselves, and break them of their own wills.’ … The common course of parents is to please their children so long, by letting them have what they crave, and what they will, till their wills are so used to be fulfilled, that they cannot endure to have them denied; and so can endure no government, because they endure no crossing of their wills. To be obedient, is to renounce their own wills, and be ruled by their parents’ or governor’s wills; to use them therefore to have their own wills, is to teach them disobedience, and harden and use them to a kind of impossibility of obeying. Tell them oft familiarly and lovingly of the excellency of obedience, and how it pleaseth God, and what need they have of government, and how unfit they are to govern themselves, and how dangerous it is to children to have their own wills; speak often with great disgrace of self-willedness and stubbornness, and tell others in their hearing what hath befallen self-willed children.

Or how great importance the wise and holy education of children is, to the saving of their souls, and the comfort of the parents, and the good of church and state, and the happiness of the world.