I LOVE TO THINK OF THE HEAVENLY LAND.

1 I love to think of the heav'nly land, Where white-rob'd angels are; Where many a friend is gather'd,safe From fear, and toil, and

part-ing, There'll be no part-ing, There'll be no part-ing, There'll be no part-ing there.

1 I

thank the good-ness and the grace That on my birth have smiled,

49.

1 I THINK When I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,

How He called little children as lambs to His fold—
I should like to have been with Him then.

2 I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,

And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
"Let the little ones come unto Me."

3 Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
And ask for a share in His love;

And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,

I shall see Him and hear Him above.

4 In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,
"For of such is the kingdom of heaven."

I WANT TO BE LIKE JESUS.