3 I would trust in thy protecting, Wholly rest upon thine arm; Follow wholly thy directing, Thou, mine only guard from harm! Keep me from mine own undoing, Help me turn to thee when tried, Still my footsteps, Father, viewing, Keep me ever at thy side. 888 8s & 7s. Beyond this vale of sorrow. Dark and thorny is the desert Through which pilgrims make their way; But beyond this vale of sorrow Lie the realms of endless day. Dear young soldiers, do not murmur At the troubles of the way; Meet the tempest—fight with courage— Never faint, but often pray. 2 He whose thunder shakes creation; He that bids the planets roll; He that rides upon the tempest, And whose scepter sways the whole— Jesus, Jesus, will defend you; Trust in him and him alone; He has shed his blood to save you, And will bring you to his throne. 3 There on flowery fields of pleasure, And the hills of endless rest, Joy, and peace, and love, shall ever, Reign and triumph in your breast. There ten thousand flaming seraphs Fly across the heavenly plain; There they sing immortal praises! Glory, glory is their theme. 4 But, methinks, a sweeter concert Makes the crystal arches ring, And a song is heard in Zion Which the angels can not sing: Who can paint those sons of glory, Ransomed souls that dwell on high, Who, with golden harps, for ever Sound redemption through the sky. 5 See the heavenly host in rapture Gazing on these shining bands; Wondering at their costly garments, And the laurels in their hands; There upon the golden pavement, See the ransomed march along! While the splendid courts of glory Sweetly echo with their song! 6 Here I see the under shepherds, And the flocks they fed below, Here with joy they dwell together, Jesus is their shepherd now. Hail! you happy, happy spirits! Welcome to the blissful plain— Glory, honor, and salvation; Reign, sweet Shepherd, ever reign. 889 8s, 6s & 7s. Luke 11:27. Must Simon bear the cross alone, And all the world go free? No, there’s a cross for every one, And there’s a cross for me. Yes, there’s a cross on Calvary, Through which by faith the crown I see; To me ’tis pardon bringing; O that’s the cross for me! 2 How happy are the saints above, Who once went mourning here! But now they taste unmingled love, And joy without a tear. For perfect love will dry the tear, And cast out all tormenting fear, Which round my heart is clinging; O that’s the love for me.