Favourite Welsh Hymns Part 7

Toward heaven, my Father's home, I steer, Tossed on the billowy flood: A man that hath no purpose here Save seeking for his G.o.d.

Let me not swerve to right or left, Or of thy guidance tire; Kept in the course that heavenward leads, Through gulphs of flood and fire.

Opposing tempests beat me back, And I have strength no more; O take me, Jesus, in thine arms, And bear to yonder sh.o.r.e.

LIV.

"FAR BETTER."

Many dear ones are departed To the grave's dark silent land: I shall soon receive the summons There to lie amid the band; Where they hear not Any more sad earth's complaints.

Blest are they who have expired In the Lord, supremely blest!

In the port so oft desired They for ever safely rest.

How much better, There to sing than sigh with us!

LV.

EARTH AND HEAVEN.

My cup doth often while below, With Marah's waters overflow: But care and grief which here annoy, Above shall be absorbed in joy.

The fire of love within the breast Is here but fond desire at best: The faintest spark in heaven it knows With an immortal ardour glows.

The joy for which I here can hope Is but the small tormenting drop: A fathomless, eternal sea Of bliss shall there encompa.s.s me.

A distant clouded glimpse is all That Faith on earth may vision call: But unto Faith and Hope in heaven Are prospect and possession given.

Crumbs are on earth our richest fare: But banquets wait the pilgrim there.

Here cold and faint the songs we raise: But deathless there will be our praise.

Here evening shades envelope me; All darkness shall from Zion flee; Without a veil it will be given G.o.d face to face to see in Heaven.

LVI.

THE SAVED.

I see a myriad saved, Who once were faint as I; Now they have climbed the rocky steeps, And reign with Christ on high.

They sing on yonder side, From doubt and sorrow free, The praises of the bleeding Lamb, The song of Calvary.

LVII.

ENDLESS PRAISE.

But begun will be the singing Unto Jesus round His throne, By the saved when tardy ages With their songs and joys are flown: And for ever, Shall the golden harps resound.

There shall I rehea.r.s.e the story, How a weakling faint and worn, Was o'er rocks and through deep waters, To eternal glory borne: Jesus wholly, Shall absorb the songs of heaven,

LVIII.

APPROACHING LAND.

(Thought to have been suggested to the seraphic Bard, Williams, of Pantycelyn, by the approach of Columbus to the sh.o.r.es of the Western Continent.)

Here I am a pa.s.sing stranger, Far away my native land; O'er the wide and stormy ocean, Where lies Canaan's happy strand.

Raging storms of strong temptation Drove me from my home astray: Bear me, balmy southern breezes, To its verdant sh.o.r.es away!

Spite of waves and counter-currents Rolling o'er me from each side, Through the seas and storms opposing, I shall stem the swelling tide.

Than the floods thy word is stronger-- Stronger than the 'whelming wave: All my hope I calmly venture On thy promise, Lord, to save.

Not much longer must I battle With the billows thus forlorn, Land is nigh, each faithful promise Shews how nigh Salvation's morn.

Not the deep shall be my dwelling:-- Joyful shall my spirit come, When the seas have cleansed and proved me, To my loved eternal Home.

Yea, methinks I catch already Fragrant perfumes from the land, Wafted by celestial breezes; Surely it is near at hand.

O could I its coast discover, Blessed country free from strife; There my dearest friends are dwelling, There is everlasting life!

CLOSE.

If there be holy contest Who ought to sing the loudest On plains of heaven; Who most to Christ indebted, Who loftiest exalted, Being most forgiven: A plea there will appear for me; For of the many, Whom sovereign Mercy, With arm almighty, May raise that state to see, No one more undeserving Of joy so great can be.

One song shall echo through the throng: "To Him who loved us: To Him who washed us: To Him who saved us, From deep and miry clay!"

The thrilling anthem doubling, Unending, night and day.