Deut. viii. 7-10.
The
land! the glory of all lands,
Beyond
the Jordan's
wave;
Beyond
the weary desert sands--
The
land beyond the
grave!
Now
safe witin that glorious land,
We
prove His faithful
Word;
'Midst
Canaan's golden fields we stand,
The
ransomed of the
Lord.
Amidst
the burning desert drought
We
learnt His watchful
love;
Streams
from the flinty rocks He brought,
Sent
bread from Heaven
above.
Our
God in weariness and need,
His
love was measured
there
By
hunger which His hand would feed,
Wants
answered by His
care.
Now
know we in Emmanuel's land
Immeasurable
grace;
No
longer looking to His Hand,
But
gazing on His
Face.
Our
need, ourselves, forgotten there,
Himself
our hearts
adore;
The
fulness of His joy we share,
His
pleasures
evermore:
His
joy fulfilled in us who tread
That
land His love has
given;
We
followed where His footsteps led,
And
found ourselves in
Heaven.
No
lower resting-place beseemed
The
well-beloved
Son,
And
on our wondering eyes has beamed
The
glory that He
won.
No
lower resting-place; and we--
Are
we content to
stand
And
look afar from Pisgah's heights
Upon
that goodly
land?
There,
where the Shepherd goes before,
The
sheep must follow
on:
How
green, how fresh the pastures fair
Where
Christ the Lord is
gone!
One
spirit with our glorious Lord,
Our
joy to Him is
sweet,
As
to His heart the love that poured
The
ointment on His
feet.
How
dear to Him the fellowship
That
owned Him in the
tomb--
How
dear to Him the fellowship
That
shares His blessed
Home!
That
shares in glory, far above
The
waste so dark and
dim,
The
sweetness of the Father's love
In
unison with
Him.
In
Him we tread those radiant heights,
His
endless joy our
own;
The
full deep tide of God's delights
He
would not drink
alone.
