Be I but meet for such a place, where angels camp around,

Where truth and duty are proclaimed, and works of love abound.

The poor and friendless there resort and find their wants supplied,

No lack whose trust is in the Lord; for such he will provide.

There all of every name and race, in need of friendly aid,

Find equal welcome to the board where no distinction’s made.

Thus treasures are laid up above, where endless life is given;

They who are rich in works of love, may hope for rest in Heaven.

Preparation for Heaven.

Our every sin must be confessed,

All guile be taken from the breast;

A holy life must we maintain,

If with the Saviour we would reign.

Be trimmed our lamps, our light appear,

Proclaim we Jesus draweth near;

That mercy’s closing hour is nigh,

Will be the angel’s last loud cry.

Now are we drawing near the port,

Decisions soon all made in court,

The scene will close, the Lord will come,—

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