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My filesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet's joyful found;
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise.



HE Son of God goes forth to war,

A kingly crown to gain ;
His blood-red banner streams afar:

Who follows in His train?


Who best can drink his


Triumphant over pain ;
Who patient bears his cross below,

He follows in His train!

The martyr first, whose eagle eye,

Could pierce beyond the grave; Who saw his Master in the sky,

And called on Him to save.

Like Him, with pardon on his tongue,

In midst of mortal pain ;
He pray'd for them that did the

Who follows in His train ?


A glorious band, the chosen few,

On whom the Spirit came; Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,

And mock'd the cross and flame.

They met the tyrant's brandish'd steel,

The lion's gory mane ;
They bow'd their necks the death to feel!

Who follows in their train?

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A noble army-men and boys,

The matron and the maid
Around the Saviour's throne rejoice,

In robes of light array'd.

They climbed the steep ascent of Heaven,

Through peril, toil, and pain !
Oh God! to us may grace be given,
To follow in their train !


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So shall I charm the listening throng,
And draw the living stones along

By Jesus's tuneful name.
The living stones shall dance, shall rise,
And form a city in the skies,
The New Jerusalem.




ERUSALEM! Jerusalem! enthroned

once on high, Thou favour'd home of God on earth,

thou heaven below the sky! Now brought to bondage with thy

sons, a curse and grief to see, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! our tears shall flow for thee.


Oh, hadst thou known thy day of grace, and flock'd

beneath the wing Of Him who call’d thee lovingly, thine own anointed

King ! Then had the tribes of all the World gone up thy pomp

to see, And glory dwelt within thy gates, and all thy fons “ And who art thou that mournest me?” replied the

been free.

ruin grey,

“ And fear'st not rather that thyself may prove a caft

away? I am a dried and abject branch, my place is given to

thee ;

But woe to every barren graft of thy wild olive-tree !

“Our day of grace is sunk in night, our time of mercy

spent, For heavy was my children's crime, and strange their

punishment; Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, finner, warned be, Who spared not His chosen seed may send His wrath

on thee.

“Our day of grace is funk in night, thy noon is in its

prime ; Oh turn and seek thy Saviour's face, in this accepted

time! So, Gentile, may Jerusalem a lesson prove to thee, And in the New Jerusalem thy home for ever be!"




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JARK! ten thousand thousand voices

Sing the Song of Jubilee ;
Earth through all her tribes rejoices,

Broke her long captivity.

Hail ! Emmanuel, Great Deliverer!
Hail ! Emmanuel, praise to Thee!
Now the theme, in pealing thunders,

Through the Universe is rung;
Now in gentler tones the wonders

Of redeeming grace are sung.


Wider now and louder rising,
Swells and soars th' enraptured strain ;
Earth's unnumbered tongues comprising-

Hark the Conqueror's praise again !
Hail ! Emmanuel, Great Deliverer !
Stones shall speak if we refrain ;
Thus, while heart and pulse are beating,

To His name let praise arise-
Till from Earth the foul retreating,

Juins the Chorus of the Skies.

Then in loftier, sweeter numbers

We shall fing Emmanuel's praise,
Freed from all that now encumbers,

Nobler songs our voices raise.

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