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IN that dim and awful day,
When this world shall pass away,
Where shall be the sinner's stay ?

Miserere Domine !

2 Not alone I then shall stand,

Trembling 'mid the uncertain band,
Who shall watch Thy dread right hand.

Miserere Domine !

3 Not alone, but one with Thee,

In thy true humanity,
Saviour, shall my portion be.

Miserere Domine !

4 I should fear my soul to cast

On that shadowy realm so vast,
Held I not Thy Manhood fast.

Miserere Domine !

5 Thine, by angel-hosts adored,

Thine, the all-creating Word,
Thine, the Church's Head and Lord.

Miserere Domine!

6 At that awful judgment-tide,

Rock of Ages, let me hide
Deep within Thy wounded side.

Miserere Domine !




THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
What power shall be the sinner's stay?
When shrivelling, like a parchèd scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll ;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,

Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ; 3 Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,

When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be Thou, O Christ, the sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away.


Sir W. Scott.

GREAT God, what do I see and hear?

The end of things created :
The Judge of mankind doth appear

On clouds of glory seated :
The trumpet sounds, the graves restore
The dead which they contained before ;

Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.

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The dead in Christ are first to rise

At the last trumpet's sounding ;
Caught up to meet Him in the skies,

With joy their Lord surrounding ;
No gloomy fears their souls dismay;
His presence sheds eternal day

On those prepared to meet Him.

3 But sinners, filled with guilty fears,

Behold His wrath prevailing ;
For they shall rise and find their tears

And sighs are unavailing.
The day of grace is past and gone;
Trembling they stand before His throne,

All unprepared to meet Him.

4 Great Judge, to Thee our prayers we pour,

In deep abasement bending;
O shield us in that last dread hour,

Thy wondrous love extending ;
May we, in this our trial day,
With faithful hearts Thy word obey,

And thus prepare to meet Thee. Amen.



JERUSALEM, my happy home,

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end,

Thy joys when shall I see?


O happy harbour of the saints !

O sweet and pleasant soil !
In thee no sorrow may be found,

No grief, no care, no toil.

3 We that are here in banishment

Continually do moan,
We sigh, and sob, we weep, and wail,

Perpetually we groan.

4. Ah, my sweet home, Jerusalem,

Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end

Thy joys that I might see !

5 Thy gardens and thy gallant walks

Continually are green,
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers

As nowhere else are seen.

6 Quite through the streets, with silver sound,

The flood of Life doth flow;
Upon whose banks on every

The wood of Life doth grow.

7 There trees for evermore bear fruit,

And evermore do spring ;
There evermore the angels sit

And evermore do sing.

8 Jerusalem, my happy home,

Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,

Thy joys that I might see! Amen.


1 JERUSALEM, my happy home,

Name ever dear to me!
When shall my labours have an end,

In joy, and peace, and thee?

2 When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls

And pearly gates behold ?
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,

And streets of shining gold ?

3 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,

Nor sin nor sorrow know:
Blest seats ! through rude and stormy scene

I onward press to you.

4. Why should I shrink from pain and woe,

Or feel at death dismay?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,

And realms of endless day.

5 Jesus, my Saviour, dwells therein

In glorious majesty;
And Him, through every stormy scene,

I onward press to see.

6 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there

Around my Saviour stand;
And soon my friends in Christ below

Will join the glorious band.

7 Jerusalem, my happy home,

My soul still pants for thee;
Then shall my labours have an end,

When I thy joys shall see. Amen.

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