. Christian herald and signs of our times . peo - pie In the pal - ace halls of God; There sounds no cry of bat - tie A -splen-dor, In rest e - ter - nal stand; Those mar - riage robes of glo - ry—Thedorus them In spot - less white at - tire; The Lamb of God pre - sents them, Asglo - rious: E - ter - nal in His praise 1 The Lamb who died and liv - eth, Tri - -ft p=p= -m—»—?=-»——m- W-—H»- t f\ -at —t- dim. m midst the shadowingpalms, But the might-y song of vie - fry, And glo-rious gold-en psalms,right-eous-ness of God— He bought them for His peo-pie With His most precious blood Ikings in crown
. Christian herald and signs of our times . peo - pie In the pal - ace halls of God; There sounds no cry of bat - tie A -splen-dor, In rest e - ter - nal stand; Those mar - riage robes of glo - ry—Thedorus them In spot - less white at - tire; The Lamb of God pre - sents them, Asglo - rious: E - ter - nal in His praise 1 The Lamb who died and liv - eth, Tri - -ft p=p= -m—»—?=-»——m- W-—H»- t f\ -at —t- dim. m midst the shadowingpalms, But the might-y song of vie - fry, And glo-rious gold-en psalms,right-eous-ness of God— He bought them for His peo-pie With His most precious blood Ikings in crowns of light—As priests in Gods own tern-pie, To serve Him day and night,umph-ant ev - er - more, The Sav - iour who re - deemd us, For - ev - er we a - dore!. Copyright. 1883. by James McGranahan. From GOSPEL CHOIR NO. 2. 3t Permission of the Publishers. CHRIST THE WAY. A MID lifes wild commotion. Where nought the heart can cheer,Who points beyond its oceanTo yonder brighter sphere ? Our feeble footsteps guiding. When from the path we stray,Who leads to bliss abiding ? Christ is our only Way. Who fills our hearts with gladness That none can take away ?Who shows us, midst our sadness The distant realms of day ? Mid fears of death assailing. Who stills the hearts wild strife ?Tis Christ! our friend unfailing, The Way, the Truth, the Life. JOY IN BELIEVING. SOMETIMES a light surprisesThe Christian while he sings ;It is the Lord who risesWith healing in his wings. When comforts are declining,He grants the soul again A season of clear shining,To cheer it after rain. Though vine nor fig-tree neitherTheir wonted fruit shall bear, Though all the field shall wither,Nor flocks nor herds be there: Yet God the same abiding,His praise shall tune my voic
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