And loudest ye redeemed! glory to God, And to the Lamb, who bought us with His blood, From every kindred, nation, people, tongue; And washed, and sanctified, and saved our souls; And gave us robes of linen pure, and crowns Of life, and made us kings and priests to God. Thousands of thousands --- thousands infinite-- With voice of boundless love, answered--Amen. And through eternity, near and remote, The worlds adoring, echoed back -- Amen. And God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost-- The One Eternal! smiled superior bliss. And every eye, and every face in heaven, Reflecting and reflected, beamed with love. --- Pollock. Oh blessed word, oh deep decree, More holy than we think! With God, no grief or woe can be, No bitter cup to drink; No sickening hopes, no want or care, No hurt can ever reach thee there; Yes, in that Father's shelter'd home, I know that sorrow cannot come. --- Paul GERHARDT. "I am much reduced," he remarked in a letter to _______, "and have nothing but a decrease of bodily strength to expect, for my appetite is almost gone; --- not that I have cause of complaint. . . . I have enjoyed the word of God; and 'my meditation of Him has been sweet.' I was never more happy. This one thing I will desire of the Lord, and with the prayer of faith require, that I may find grace sufficient for me. I have a sweet enjoyment of midnight hours when I cannot sleep. At three or four I sit up in my bed, and you and yours and the rest of my children, are before me as in a picture; and I am entreating my God for your growth in usefulness --- for your living a bright example of your Christian profession. ". . . One year and a half I have been nearly a prisoner to my house; soon shall I be (unless suddenly translated) to my chamber, and then to my bed; and then this body shall rest in the grave, and my spirit enter with boldness,' (even mine!) 'into the holiest, by the blood of Jesus!' . . . I am so infirm as not to be able to pray with my own family; nevertheless, 'He that loved me will love me to the end. One thing only I desire, without ceasing --- that, for the sake of' the thousands to whom I have preached 'the unsearchable riches of Christ,' and contended for his glory, I may, in the hour of death, look through an open heaven to a crucified Saviour smiling upon my guilty soul. At the close of a letter to Lady Mary Fitzgerald, January 17, 1795, the following noble sentence occurs: 'I have not slept out of my house, or been further than my garden' and the adjoining fields, for more than eighteen months; yet I enjoy liberty. I soar to heaven, and mix in the society of Cherubim and Seraphim, and all the ransomed of the Lord.' I have to tell you --- and would, if it were with my last breath --- that I can wish for nothing more than I now find Christ is to me." |