2 "There, like streams that feed the garden, Pleasures without end shall flow; For the Lord, your faith rewarding, All his bounty shall bestow; Still, in undisturbed possession, Peace and righteousness shall reign: Never shall you feel oppression, Hear the voice of war again. 3 "Ye no more your suns descending, Waning moons no more shall see; But, your griefs forever ending, Find eternal noon in me; God shall rise, and shining o'er you, Change to day the gloom of night; He, the Lord, shall be your glory, God, your everlasting light." 979. C. M. Ancient Hymns. The Noble Army of Martyrs. 1 The triumphs of the martyred saints The joyous lay demand; The heart delights in song to dwell On that victorious band-- Those whom the senseless world abhorred, Who cast the world aside, Deeming it worthless, for the sake Of Christ, their Lord and Guide. 2 For him they braved the tyrant's rage, The scourge's cruel smart; The wild beast's fang their bodies tore, But vanquished not the heart; Like lambs before the sword they fell, Nor cry nor plaint expressed; For patience kept the conscious mind And armed the fearless breast. 3 What tongue can tell the crown prepared The martyr's brow to grace? His shining robe, his joys unknown, Before thy glorious face? Vouchsafe us, Lord, if such thy will. Clear skies and seasons calm; If not, the martyr's cross to bear, And win the martyr's palm. 980. 6s. M. Luther. The Death of Martyrs. 1 Flung to the heedless winds, Or on the waters cast, Their ashes shall be watched, And gathered at the last: And from that scattered dust, Around us and abroad, Shall spring a plenteous seed Of witnesses for God. 2 The Father hath received Their latest living breath; Yet vain is Satan's boast Of victory in their death: Still, still, though dead, they speak, And trumpet-tongued proclaim To many a wakening land The one availing name. 981. S. M. Ancient Hymns. Thanks for all Saints. 1 For all thy saints, O God, Who strove in Christ to live, Who followed him, obeyed, adored, Our grateful hymn receive. 2 For all thy saints, O God, Accept our thankful cry, Who counted Christ their great reward, And strove in him to die. 3 They all, in life and death, With him, their Lord in view, Learned from thy Holy Spirit's breath To suffer and to do. 4 For this thy name we bless, And humbly beg that we May follow them in holiness, And live and die in thee. 982. 7s. & 6s. M. (Peculiar.) Meth. Coll. Quiet Religion.