Wild Roses with A lamp in the night, a song in time of sorrow and My song shall be of Jesus

A lamp in the night, a song in time of sorrow;
A great glad hope which faith can ever borrow
To gild the passing day with the glory of the morrow,
Is the hope of the coming of the Lord.

A star in the sky, a beacon bright to guide us;
An anchor sure to hold when storms betide us;
A refuge for the soul, where in quiet we may hide us,
Is the hope of the coming of the Lord.

A call of command, like trumpet clearly sounding,
To make us bold when evil is surrounding;
To stir the sluggish heart, and to keep in good abounding,
Is the hope of the coming of the Lord.

A word from the One to all our hearts the dearest,
A parting word to make Him aye the nearest;
Of all His precious words, the sweetest, brightest, clearest,
Is the hope of the coming of the Lord.

Chorus
Blessed hope, blessed hope,
Blessed hope of the coming of the Lord;
How the aching heart it cheers,
How it glistens thro’ our tears,
Blessed hope of the coming of the Lord.
                               D. W. Whittle

My song shall be of Jesus,
His mercy crowns my days,
He fills my cup with blessings,
And tunes my heart to praise;
My song shall be of Jesus,
The precious Lamb of God,
Who gave Himself my ransom,
And bought me with His blood.

My song shall be of Jesus,
When, sitting at His feet,
I call to mind His goodness,
In meditation sweet;
My song shall be of Jesus,
Whatever ill betide;
I’ll sing the grace that saves me,
And keeps me at His side.

My song shall be of Jesus,
While pressing on my way
To reach the blissful region
Of pure and perfect day.
And when my soul shall enter
The gate of Eden fair,
A song of praise to Jesus
I’ll sing forever there.

Mrs. Van Alstyne