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David Charles

To us from the desert ascending

God giveth in Paradise rest;

Our soul after weary contending

Shall peacefully lean on His breast:

90

There we shall escape from affliction,

From sin with its shame and its pain;

Enjoying the full benediction,

The love of the Lamb that was slain.

From the hills of the Beautiful City

The way of the desert is clear;

What joy will be there in reviewing

The journey's meanderings here!

To look on the storms as they gather,

On terrible death and the grave;

While we shall be safe with the Father,

In peace on love's shadowless wave.

While dying lips have murmured in anticipation this joy of the heavenly retrospect from the hills of the City, the gate of pearl has opened to many a soul; and the faltering strain of earth has glided imperceptibly into the choral song of seraphim and saints redeemed.

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