2 Once they were mourning here below, And bathed their couch with tears; They wrestled hard, as we do now, With sins, and doubts, and fears. 3 I ask them whence their victory came; They, with united breath, Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, Their triumph to his death. 4 They marked the footsteps that he trod; His zeal inspired their breast; And, following their incarnate God, Possessed the promised rest. 5 Our glorious Leader claims our praise, For his own pattern given; While the long cloud of witnesses Shows the same path to heaven. 818 C. M. O that I had wings like a dove. Psalm 55:6. The dove, let loose in eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne’er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam;— 2 But high she shoots through air and light Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. 3 So grant me, Lord, from every snare And stain of passion free, Aloft, through faith’s serener air, To urge my course to thee;— 4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay, My soul as home she springs; Thy sunshine on her joyful way Thy freedom on her wings. 819 C. M. D. Heaven is my home. I have no resting-place on earth On which to fix my love; But O! my heart is yearning for The promised rest above. ’Tis true, this earth is passing fair, O’er which I sadly roam; But yet it hath no charms for me, For heavén is my home. 2 A pilgrim long I’ve wandered here; But, with a steadfast eye, I see a rest reserved for me, At God’s right hand on high, Then all the joys of earth in vain Shall tempt my feet to roam, To seek a dwelling-place below, Since heavén is my home. 3 O, were this earth as fair as when Primeval Eden smiled, I would not by its glowing charms Be from my hope beguiled; But I would seek a brighter world, Where God has bid me come: Then seek no more to bind me here, For heavén is my home. 820 C. M. The new Jerusalem. Jerusalem, my happy home, O how I long for thee! When will my sorrows have an end? Thy joys when shall I see? 2 Thy walls are all of precious stones, Most glorious to behold! Thy gates are richly set with pearl, Thy streets are paved with gold. 3 Thy gardens and thy pleasant greens My study long have been; Such sparkling gems by human sight Have never yet been seen. 4 If heavén be thus glorious, Lord, Why should I stay from thence? What folly ’tis that I should dread To die and go from hence!