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126 The Book of Pratse.
Why should I shrink from pain and woe,
Or feel at death dismay ? I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.
Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there
Around my Saviour stand ; And soon my friends in Christ below
Will join the glorious band.
Jerusalem, my happy home !
My soul still pants for thee : Then shall my labours have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.
Rev. VII. 13—17.
What are these in bright array,
This innumerable throng, Round the altar, night and day,
Hymning one triumphant song ? " Worthy is the Lamb, once slain,
Blessing, honour, glory, power, Wisdom, riches, to obtain,
New dominion every hour."
These through fiery trials trod ;
These from great affliction came ; Now, before the Throne of God,
Seal'd with His Almighty Name, Glad in raiment pure and white,
Victor-palms in every hand, Through their dear Redeemer's might,
More than conquerors they stand.