Who knows his sins forgiv’n!
“This earth!” he cries, “is not my place,
I seek a place in Heav’n,-
A country far from mortal sight,
Which yet by faith I see,
The land of rest, the saints’ delight,
The Heav’n prepared for me.”
O what a blessed hope is ours!
While here on earth we stay,
We more than taste the heav’nly pow’rs,
And antedate that day.
We feel the resurrection near,
Our life in Christ concealed,
And with His glorious presence here
Our earthen vessels filled.
O would He more of Heav’n bestow,
And let the vessels break,
And let our ransomed spirits go
To grasp the God we seek;
In rapturous awe on Him to gaze,
Who bought the sight for me;
And shout and wonder at His grace
Thro’ all eternity!
Charles Wesley
He sitteth o’er the waterfloods,
And He is strong to save,-
He sitteth o’er the waterfloods,
And guides each drifting wave!
Though loud around the vessel’s prow
The waves may toss and break,
Yet at His word they sink to rest,
As on a tranquil lake!
He sitteth o’er the waterfloods
When waves of sorrow rise,
And while He holds the bitter cup,
He wipes the tearful eyes!
He knows how long the wilful heart
Requires the chast’ning grief,
And, soon as sorrow’s work is done,
‘Tis He who sends relief!
He sitteth o’er the waterfloods,
As in the days of old,
When o’er the Saviour’s sinless head
The waves and billows rolled!
Yes, all the billows pass’d o’er Him!
Our sins-they bore Him down!
For us He met the crushing storm-
He met th’ Almighty’s frown!
He sitteth o’er the waterfloods!
Then doubt and fear no more,
For He who pass’d thro’ all the storms
Has reached the heav’nly shore;
And ev’ry tempest-driven bark,
With Jesus for its Guide,
Will soon be moored in harbor calm,
In glory to abide!
Henry Bennett
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