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Hasten, Israel! from the desert
After tarrying there so long,
Milk and honey, wine and welcome
Wait you 'mong the ransom'd throng;
Wear your arms, advance to warfare,
Onward go, and bravely fight,
Fair the land, and there shall lead you
Cloud by day and flame by night.
Babel's waters are so bitter,
There is nought but weeping still,
Zion's harps, so sweet and tuneful,
Do my heart with rapture fill:
Bring thou us a joyful gathering
From the dread captivity,
And until on Zion's mountain
Let there be no rest for me.
In this land I am a stranger,
Yonder is my native home,
Far beyond the stormy billows,
Where the flowers of Canaan bloom:
Tempests wild from sore temptation
Did my vessel long detain,
Speed, ye gentle southern breezes,
Aid me soon to cross the main.
* * * * *
Jesus--thou my only pleasure,
Naught like thee this world contains;
In thy name is greater treasure,
Than in India's golden plains;
And this treasure,
Jesus' love for me obtains.
Jesus, lovely is the aspect
Of thy gracious face divine;
Eye hath seen no fairer object,
On this beauteous world of thine,
Rose of Sharon,
Heaven's glories in thee shine.
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