Funeral Hymns, 3

HoSANNAH to Jesus On high!
Another has enter'd his rest,
Another is 'scaped to the sky,
And lodged in Immanuel's breast:
The soul of our sister is gone
To heighten the triumph above.
Exalted to Jesus's throne,
And clasp'd in the arms of His love.

What fulness of rapture is there.
While Jesus His glory displays,
And purples the heavenly air,
And scatters the odours of grace!
He looks — and His servants in light
The blessing ineffable meet;
He smiles — and they faint at the sight,
And fall overwhelm'd at His feet!

How happy the angels that fall,
Transported at Jesus's name!
The saints whom He soonest shall call
To share in the feast of the Lamb!
No longer iniprison'd in clay,
Who next from his dungeon shall fly,
Who first shall be summon'd away?
My merciful God — Is it I?

O Jesus, if this be Thy will,
That suddenly I should depart.
Thy counsel of mercy reveal,
And whisper the call to my heart:
O give me a signal to know
If soon Thou wouldst have me remove.
And leave the dull body below.
And fly to the regions of love.

Thou know'st in the spirit of prayer
I gi'oan for a speedy release,
And long have I pined to be there
Where sorrow and misery cease:
Where all the temptation is past.
And loss and affliction are o'er,
And anguish is ended at last,
And trouble and death are no more.

Come then to my rescue, (I pray
For this, and for nothing beside,)
Make ready, and bear me away.
Thy weary, disconsolate bride:
The days of my mourning and pain
Cut short, and in pity set free,
And give me to rest, and to reign
For ever and ever in Thee.