Come, my Christian brethren, come, Let us onward to our home; Though we many trials meet, Jesus makes our trials sweet. CHORUS. We with Jesus soon shall be Happy in eternity: By our Father’s side sit down: They that conquer shall wear the crown. 2 Brother Christian, doubt no more, Christ your Saviour’s gone before; He himself has marked the way, Leading to eternal day. We with Jesus, etc. 3 Let us never be afraid, ’Tis on Christ our help is laid; He will all our foes o’ercome, He will take his exiles home. We with Jesus, etc. 4 Though the world revile and mock, We are built upon the Rock; And while thus we dwell secure, Christ will make our goings sure. We with Jesus, etc. 825 8s & 7s. Prisoners of hope. Zech. 9:12. Let me go; my soul is weary Of the chain which binds me here; Let my spirit bend its pinion To a brighter, holier sphere. Earth, ’tis true hath friends that bless me With their fond and faithful love; But the hands of angels beckon Onward to the climes above. 2 Let me go; for earth hath sorrow, Sin, and pain, and bitter tears; All its paths are dark and dreary, All its hopes are fraught with fears; Short-lived are its brightest flowers, Soon its cherished joys decay:— Let me go; I fain would leave it For the realms of endless day. 3 Let me go; my heart hath tasted Of my Saviour’s wondrous grace; Let me go, where I shall ever See and know him face to face. Let me go; the trees of heavén Rise before me, waving bright, And the distant, crystal waters Flash upon my failing sight. 4 Let me go; for songs seraphic Now seem calling from the sky— ’Tis the welcome of the angels, Which e’en now are hovering nigh: Let me go: they wait to bear me To the mansions of the blest; Where the spirit, worn and weary, Finds at last its long sought rest. 826 8s. Longing for rest. Psalm 55:6, 7. O that I had wings like a dove, For, then, would I soon be at rest; I’d fly to the mansions above; The home of the pure and the blest; The place where no sorrow or tears Can ever my pleasures destroy; But where through eternity’s years, I’ll drink from an ocean of Joy! 2 The clouds that now hang o’er my soul, Make dark all the pathway of life; While thunders unceasingly roll In storms of deep anger and strife; I hope for some bright ray to beam From clouds where there yet may be light, But only the lightning’s red gleam Is seen through the darkness of night.