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The few lu

rid morn ings that dawn on us There sweet be my rest, till he bid me a

D. C.

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3.

Who, who would live alway, away from his God;
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,-

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,
And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns;

4.

Where the saints cí all ages in harmony meet,
The Savior and brethren, transported to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul.

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