4 There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast. 435 C. M. God our only hope. When reft of all, and hopeless care Would sink us to the tomb, What power shall save us from despair, What dissipate the gloom? 2 No balm that earthly plants distill Can soothe the mourner’s smart, No mortal hand, with lenient skill, Bind up the broken heart. 3 But One alone, who reigns above, Our woe to joy can turn, And light the lamp of life and love, That long has ceased to burn. 4 Then, O my soul! to that One flee, To God thy woes reveal; His eye alone thy wounds can see, His power alone can heal. 436 C. M. Hope thou in God. Psalm 42:5. My soul! triumphant in the Lord, Proclaim thy joys abroad, And march with holy vigor on, Supported by thy God. 2 Through every winding maze of life, His hand has been my guide; And in his long-experienced care, My heart shall still confide. 3 His grace through all the desert flows, An unexhausted stream; That grace, on Zion’s sacred mount, Shall be my endless theme. 4 Beyond the choicest joys of time, Thy courts on earth I love; But O! I burn with strong desire To view thy house above. 5 There, joined with all the shining band, My soul would thee adore; A pillar in thy temple fixed, To be removed no more. 437 8s & 4s. Vain world, adieu. When for eternal worlds we steer, And seas are calm, and skies are clear, And faith, in lively exercise, Sees distant fields of Canaan rise, The soul for joy then spreads her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, Vain world, adieu. 2 With cheerful hope, her eyes explore Each land-mark on the distant shore, The trees of life, the pastures green, The golden streets, the crystal stream; Again for joy she spreads her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, I’m going home. 3 The nearer still she draws to land, More eager all her powers expand; With steady helm, and free bent sail, Her anchor drops within the vail; And now for joy she folds her wings, And her celestial sonnet sings, I’m safe at home. 438 C. M. Hope maketh not ashamed. Rom. 5:5. The world may change from old to new, From new to old again; Yet hope and heaven, for ever true, Within our hearts remain. 2 Hope leads the child to plant the flower, The man to sow the seed; Nor leaves fulfillment to her hour— But prompts again to deed.