Ask ye what great thing I know,
That delights and stirs me so?
What the high reward I win?
Whose the Name I glory in?
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

What is faith’s foundation strong?
What awakes my heart to song?
He Who bore my sinful load,
Purchased for me peace with God,
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

Who is He that makes me wise
To discern where duty lies?
Who is He that makes me true
Duty, when discerned to do,
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

Who defeats my fiercest foes?
Who consoles my saddest woes?
Who revives my fainting heart,
Healing all its hidden smart?
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

Who is life in life to me?
Who the death of death will be?
Who will place me on His right,
With the countless hosts of light?
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

This is that great thing I know;
This delights and stirs me so;
Faith in Him Who died to save,
Him Who triumphed over the grave:
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

Blest be the dear uniting love,
That will not let us part!
Our bodies may far off remove,
We still are one in heart.

Joined in one spirit to our Head,
Where He appoints we go;
And still in Jesus’ footsteps tread,
And show His praise below.

O may we ever walk in Him,
And nothing know beside;
Nothing desire, nothing esteem,
But Jesus crucified.

Closer and closer let us cleave
To His beloved embrace;
Expect His fullness to receive
And grace to answer grace.

While thus we walk with Christ in light
Who shall our souls disjoin,
Souls, which Himself vouchsafes t’unite
In fellowship divine!

We all are one who Him receive,
The same in mind and heart,
Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place,
Nor life, nor death can part.

Partakers of the Savior’s grace,
The same in mind and heart,
Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place,
Nor life, nor death can part.

But let us hasten to the day
Which shall our flesh restore,
When death shall all be done away,
And bodies part no more!

Nothing earthly meets the longing,
Nothing here can satisfy,
But the love and grace of Jesus
Meet and still each longing cry.

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“Jesus only, Jesus only,”
Be my raptured song today;
“Jesus only, Jesus only,”
Jesus, Jesus all the way.

“Jesus only” on the mountain,
When my heart with rapture thrills;
“Jesus only” in the valley,
When life’s woe my spirit fills.

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O to spend each passing moment
As in sight of His dear face!
O to show to souls in darkness
All the beauty of His grace!

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Grace that saves me, grace that keeps me,
Grace that helps me day by day;
Faith and hope and peace renewing,
Lest I falter by the way.

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Jesus, Savior, Thou hast bought me,
Thou hast sealed me for Thine own;
Hold me, guard me, and direct me,
Till Thou callest, “Child, come home.”

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Let the world their virtue boast,
Their works of righteousness,
I, a wretch undone and lost,
Am freely saved by grace;
Other title I disclaim;
This, only this, is all my plea:
I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.

I, like Gideon’s fleece, am found
Unwatered still, and dry,
While the dew on all around,
Falls plenteous from the sky;
Yet my Lord I cannot blame,
The Savior’s grace for all is free:
I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.

Surely He will lift me up,
For I of Him have need;
I cannot give up my hope,
Though I am cold and dead;
To bring fire on earth He came;
O that it now might kindled be!
I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.

Jesus, Thou for me hast died,
And Thou in me wilt live;
I shall feel Thy death applied,
I shall Thy life receive;
Yet, when melted in the flame
Of love, this shall be all my plea:
I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.

How great the wisdom, power and grace,
Which in redemption shine!
The heavenly host with joy confess
The work is all divine.

Before His feet they cast their crowns,
Those crowns which Jesus gave,
And, with ten thousand tongues,
Proclaim His power to save.

They tell the triumphs of His cross,
The sufferings which He bore;
How low He stooped, how high He rose,
And rose to stoop no more.

With them let us our voices raise,
And still the song renew;
Salvation well deserves the praise
Of men, and angels, too.

Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard
Nor hath the fancy portrayed,
What the dear Lord hath in reserve,
If His commands are obeyed.

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We shall wander no more, but on the bright shore,
We’ll share in that home the glory to come;
We shall wander no more, but on the bright shore,
We’ll share in that home the glory to come.

Mansions of joy, ages ago,
Jesus the Master foretold;
They are for us, just as they were
For the disciples of old.

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Pilgrims are we, seeking to find,
Regions than Canaan more fair;
Heav’n is our home, over the tide,
Where is no sorrow or care.

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Loved ones are there, torn from us here,
We their dear faces shall see;
Never farewell then shall be said,
Never a parting shall be.

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They tell me of a land so fair,
Unseen by mortal eyes,
Where spring in fadeless beauty blooms,
Beneath unclouded skies.

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“Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Neither hath it entered into the heart of man,
The things which God hath prepared for them,
Prepared for them that love Him.”

They tell me of a land so fair,
Where all is light and song,
Where angel choirs their anthems join
With yonder blood-washed throng.

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No radiant beams from sun or moon
Adorn that land so fair,
For He who sits upon the throne
Shines forth resplendent there.

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O land of light and love and joy,
Where comes no night of care,
What will our song of triumph be
When we shall enter there!

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For those we love within the veil,
Who once were comrades of our way,
We thank Thee, Lord; for they have won
To cloudless day.

And life for them is life indeed,
The splendid goal of earth’s strait race;
And where no shadows intervene
They see Thy face.

Not as we knew them any more,
Toil worn, and sad with burdened care:
Erect, clear eyed, upon their brows
Thy Name they bear.

Free from the fret of mortal years,
And knowing now Thy perfect will,
With quickened sense and heightened joy,
They serve Thee still.

O fuller, sweeter is that life,
And larger, ampler is the air:
Eye cannot see nor heart conceive
The glory there;

Nor know to what high purpose Thou
Dost yet employ their ripened powers,
Nor how at Thy behest they touch
This life of ours.

There are no tears within their eyes;
With love they keep perpetual tryst;
And praise and work and rest are one
With Thee, O Christ.

Have you on the Lord believed?
Still there’s more to follow.
Of His grace have you received?
Still there’s more to follow.
Oh, the grace the Father shows!
Still there’s more to follow.
Freely He His grace bestows,
Still there’s more to follow.

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More and more, more and more,
Always more to follow,
Oh, his matchless, boundless love!
Still there’s more to follow.

Have you felt the Savior near?
Still there’s more to follow.
Does His blessèd presence cheer?
Still there’s more to follow.
Oh the love that Jesus shows;
Still there’s more to follow.
Freely He His love bestows,
Still there’s more to follow.

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Have you felt the Spirit’s power?
Still there’s more to follow.
Falling like the gentle shower?
Still there’s more to follow.
Oh, the power the Spirit shows,
Still there’s more to follow.
Freely He His power bestows,
Still there’s more to follow.

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How sweet to reflect on those joys that await me,
In yon blissful region, the haven of rest,
Where glorified spirits with welcome shall greet me,
And lead me to mansions prepared for the blest;
Encircled in light, and with glory enshrouded,
My happiness perfect, my mind’s sky unclouded,
I’ll bathe in the ocean of pleasure unbounded,
And range with delight through the Eden of Love.

When angelic legions with harps tuned celestial,
Harmoniously join in the concert of praise,
The saints, as they flock from the regions terrestrial,
In loud hallelujahs their voices will raise;
Then songs of the Lamb shall re-echo through Heaven,
My soul will respond, “To Immanuel be given
All glory, all honor, all might and dominion,
Who brought us through grace to the Eden of Love.”

Then hail blessèd state! Hail ye songsters of glory!
Ye harpers of bliss, soon I’ll meet you above,
And join your full choir in rehearsing the story—
“Salvation from sorrow, through Jesus’ love.”
Though prisoned on earth, yet by anticipation
Already my soul feels a sweet pre-libation
Of joys that await me when freed from probation;
My heart’s now in Heaven, the Eden of Love.

In Heaven all is gladness—
Here troubles press, and fears;
Here often bowed and sighing,
I eat “the bread of tears.”
Here joy and sorrow mingle
For Christ’s belovèd bride;
But ’tis not so up yonder,
For there doth joy abide.

This world is not my homeland,
In tents I pass my days;
Tow’rd yonder shore of glory
With yearnings eyes I gaze.
While seeks the world its follies,
I view yon citadel,
Where, free from care and sorrow,
Forever I shall dwell.

Would I exchange conditions
With one, whose all’s below?
Nay, rather I’d be sowing
Good seed, tho’ tears may flow.
If at the close of journey
I but in joy may reap,
When worldlings’ joys are over,
And they, too late, must weep.

My hope for life eternal
Rests on foundation sure;
My cross I therefore gladly
Will yet awhile endure.
Soon there shall be no sorrow,
No plaints, nor sighs for me,
When, with uncovered vision,
My Savior I shall see.

I have a future all sublime,
Beyond the realms of space and time,
Where my Redeemer I shall see,
And sorrow nevermore shall be.

A precious heritage is mine;
’Tis kept above by love divine;
And while I tarry here below,
He gives me what is best, I know.

O, God be praised, He planned for me;
From anxious care I’m spared and free;
He bids me cast on Him my care—
What then remains for me to bear?

Sweet peace within my soul doth dwell;
With joy I sing: “Now all is well,”
He leads me safely by His hand
Until I reach the Glory Land.

O precious Savior, teach Thou me
To live my life more true to Thee
The little while I yet must roam
Before I reach my heav’nly home.

I have read of a beautiful city,
Far away in the kingdom of God;
I have read how its walls are of jasper,
How its streets are all golden and broad;
In the midst of the street is life’s river,
Clear as crystal and pure to behold;
But not half of that city’s bright glory
To mortals has ever been told.

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Not half has ever been told;
Not half has ever been told;
Not half of that city’s bright glory
To mortals has ever been told.

I have read of bright mansions in Heaven,
Which the Savior has gone to prepare;
And the saints who on earth have been faithful,
Rest forever with Christ over there;
There no sin ever enters, nor sorrow,
The inhabitants never grow old;
But not half of the wonderful story
To mortals has ever been told.

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I have read of white robes for the righteous,
Of bright crowns which the glorified wear,
When our Father shall bid them, “Come, enter,
And My glory eternally share”;
How the righteous are evermore blessed
As they walk through the streets of pure gold;
But not half of the wonderful story
To mortals has ever been told.

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I have read of a Christ so forgiving,
That vile sinners may ask and receive
Peace and pardon for every transgression,
If when asking they only believe.
I have read how He’ll guide and protect us,
If for safety we enter His fold;
But not half of His goodness and mercy
To mortals has ever been told.

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There’s a land unseen by our mortal eyes,
And its joys no tongue can tell;
Where in robes of white, in its vales of light,
We shall meet, and forever dwell.

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O Eden, dear Eden,
Home bright and fair,
Soon our bark will land on thy golden stand,
And our rest will be glorious there.

Though our ties may break and our hearts may grieve,
While the cross on earth we bear;
There is joy at last, when our voyage is past,
And our rest will be glorious there.

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Let us look above when the clouds are dark,
Let us look by faith and prayer;
Then we’ll anchor safe o’er the storm girt wave,
And our rest will be glorious there.

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We shall meet ere long in a world of song,
And its fadeless beauty share;
We shall meet and sing through eternal spring,
And our rest will be glorious there.

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Come let us sing of homeland,
Down by the crystal sea;
Wonderful land where Jesus
Buildeth a mansion for me.

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Over yonder, down by the crystal sea,
Over yonder, there’s where I long to be,
No more sorrow, toil, grief nor care
In the homeland bright and fair,
Over, over there.

There is a wondrous city,
Streets of transparent gold;
Not half its glorious beauty
Has e’er to mortals been told.

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Water of life there floweth,
Fruit in abundant store;
Citizens of that country
Hunger and thirst nevermore.

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Come go with me to homeland,
Jesus invites you there;
Help spread the invitation,
Tell it to men ev’rywhere.

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We shall reach the river side
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
We shall cross the stormy tide
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
We shall press the sands of gold,
While before our eyes unfold
Heaven’s splendors, yet untold,
Some sweet day, some sweet day.

We shall pass inside the gate,
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
Peace and plenty for us wait
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
We shall hear the wondrous strain,
Glory to the Lamb that’s slain,
Christ was dead, but lives again,
Some sweet day, some sweet day.

We shall meet our loved and own
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
Gath’ring round the great white throne
Some sweet day, some sweet day;
By the tree of life so fair,
Joy and rapture everywhere,
O the bliss of over there!
Some sweet day, some sweet day.

Thy Word, O God, declareth
No man hath seen or heard
The joys our God prepareth
For them that love their Lord.
Their eyes shall see Thy glory,
Thy face, Thy throne, Thy might;
With shouts shall they adore Thee,
The true, eternal Light.

With Thee, their warfare ended,
Thy saints, from earth released,
Shall keep, with glories splendid,
Eternal holy feast.
There shall Thy sons and daughters
The tree of life partake,
Shall drink the living waters,
And bread with Thee shall break.

Thy constant praises sounding
Before Thy great white throne,
They all in joy abounding
Shall sing the song unknown;
Laud, honor, praise, thanksgiving
And glory ever be
To Thee, the everlasting
And blessèd Trinity.

We speak of the realms of the blest,
That country so bright and so fair,
And oft are its glories confessed—
But what must it be to be there!
We speak of its pathway of gold—
Its walls decked with jewels so rare,
Its wonders and pleasures untold—
But what must it be to be there!

We speak of its freedom from sin,
From sorrow, temptation and care,
From trials without and within—
But what must it be to be there!
We speak of its service of love,
Of the robes which the glorified wear,
Of the church of the Firstborn above—
But what must it be to be there!

Our mourning is all at an end,
When, raised by the life-giving word,
We see the new city descend,
Adorned as a bride for her Lord;
The city so holy and clean,
No sorrow can breathe in the air;
No gloom of affliction or sin,
No shadow of evil, is there.

Do Thou, midst temptation and woe,
For Heaven my spirit prepare;
And shortly I also shall know
And feel what it is to be there.
Then o’er the bright fields we shall roam,
In glory celestial and fair,
With saints and with angels at home,
And Jesus Himself will be there.

We talk of the realms of the bless’d,
That country so bright and so fair,
And oft are its glories confess’d,
But what must it be to be there!

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Oh, what must it be to be there,
Oh, what must it be to be there;
With Jesus our Friend,
All eternity to spend,
Oh, what must it be to be there.

We talk of its pathways of gold,
Its walls decked with jewels so rare;
Its wonders and pleasures untold,
But what must it be to be there!

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We talk of its freedom from sin,
From sorrow, temptation and care,
From trials without and within;
But what must it be to be there!

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We talk of its peace and its love,
The robes which the glorified wear;
The songs of the blessèd above,
But what must it be to be there!

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