I AM THINKING OF HOME. "In my Father's house are many mansions."-John xiv: 2, Words by MARY F. KIRBY. Not too fast. Rev. R. Lowry. 1. I am thinking of home, of my Father's house, Where the many bright mansions be! 2. I am thinking of home, of the loved ones there, Dearest friends who have gone before; 3. I am thinking of home; I am homesick now, And my spi-rit doth long to be jasper walls pure and sad-ly thought as we Of the city whose streets are all covered with gold, Of its Beyond the pearly gate, Many mansions wait For the weary ones who journey home. 4 I am thinking of home! yes, of "home, sweet home;" May we all in that home unite With the white-covere: throng, and exultingly raise BATTLING FOR THE LORD. "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work." Home, home, sweet, sweet home! Prepare me, dear Savior, for glory, my home. RALLY FOR THE SCHOOL. W. H. DOANE. Words by FANNY CROSBY. 1. Come, rally round his standard, Our Savior, King of kings, Whose word is life eTo geth-er in his vine-yard, We la bor with delight, We love to work for ANNIVERSARY HYMN. Prepared expressly for the Anniversary exercises of the FIRST BAPTIST SABBATH-SCHOOL, Cincinnati, O., Feb. 13, 1868. Words by FANNY CROSBY. Spirited. W. H. DOANE. 1. An other happy, golden year Has brightly smiled and passed a way; With pastor, friends, and teachers dear, We hail our anni - ver-sary day! Chorus. Our welcome an-ni-ver-sary day, Our joyful an- ni- ver-sary day, With pas-tor, friends, and teachers dear, We hail our anni - ver-sary day! 2 With grateful hearts to God above, 3 Our growing numbers still we view, 4 Though some who once were with us here 5 And when these mortal scenes are past, CHORUS OF FIRE. Words and Music by Rev. R. Lowry. 1. 01 2. O! 3. O! 4. 0! gold - en Here-after, Thine every bright rafter Will shake in the host with-out num-ber A-waked from death's slumber, Who walk in white man-sions eternal, In fields ev er ver- nal, A- wait-ing your Jesus, our Master, Com-mand to beat faster These weary life 01 chorus of fire, That will burst from God's choir, When the loud hal-le jahs leap up from the soul, Till the flowers on the hills, And the waves in the rills, Shall tremble with joy in the mu-sic's deep roll. |