The royal city, the divine abode
Of ransomed men and their eternal God,
Rises ’mid blooming bowers and lofty trees,
And waves its banners to the gentle breeze.
Upon its pearly gates and shining walls
A flood of everlasting glory falls,
And tinges with its own delightful glow
The lovely river murmuring below.
That river from the living fountain springs,
And, guided by the mighty King of kings,
It wanders through the saints’ celestial home,
Where, robed in white, the ransomed nations roam
Through golden streets, and gardens fair and free;
And on its banks stands life’s unfading tree.
All, all is bliss, and love, and glory there;
No pain, no sickness, no corroding care,
No grief, no aching hearts, no tearful eyes,
No broken bands, and there no severed ties;
For, o’er those broad and beautiful domains
The Prince of peace, the great Immanuel reigns.
The good have met, of every age and land,
Around the throne a glorious throng they stand;
The crown of life, the blood-washed robes they wear,
The conqueror’s palms of victory they bear;
They bend the knee, they raise the joyful eye;
And hark! Oh, hark! that vast assembly cry:
“Worthy the Lamb to be exalted thus,
Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!”
And angels with the ransomed millions sing,
“Glory and honor to our God and King!”
TEMPERANCE
A WELCOME TO A TEMPERANCE PICNIC.
Old and young are welcome here
To the banquet we have spread:
It will cause no bitter tear
When the festal hour is fled;
It will break no mother’s heart,
For the deadly bowl we shun!
Welcome then—and when we part
Blessings go with every one.
[The following lines were also written by Miss JOHNSON
for a temperance picnic, held in a grove near her
father’s house. They were read by her brother
Edwin, now a lawyer in Stanstead, P. Q.]
From north and south, from east and west
They come with banners gay;
Hope lights each eye and fills each breast,
And all are friends to-day.
The fairest of the sister band—
With greeting most sincere,—
Magog extends an eager hand,
And bids you welcome here!
Hail, brothers in a noble cause,
’Tis well we thus should meet:
For every meeting closer draws
The bonds of union sweet.
And we who battle for the right,
And breathe the solemn vow
To win or perish in the fight,
Should be united now.
Up, brothers, up! to arms! to arms!
The sword must needs be drawn:
These are indeed no vain alarms,
The foe is marching on!
And shall he blight our happy land
With his polluting breath?
And scatter woe on every hand, And infamy and death?
By yonder mountain and by lake
Which their approval show,—
For each beloved Township’s sake,
We boldly answer—No!
